


Like a Hurricane

by Anjika



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (No underage & no sex), Asexual Castiel, Asexual Supernatural Mini Bang, Big bro Sammy, Bisexual Dean Winchester, De-Aged Dean Winchester, Dean Whump, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Monster of the Week, Sex Repulsed Castiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 15:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3772675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjika/pseuds/Anjika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean was just doing his best to protect his pain in the ass little brother from the monsters in the world, he didn't want any of this. Not the oddly huge clothes he didn't remember putting on, or to be stranded in some tiny city he'd never been to before. He definitely wasn't expecting the giant guy that was chasing him around spouting gibberish about being his little brother. Yeah, no, Sammy was puny not this gigantic old man with bad hair. Then there’s this guy that claims to be an angel, as if those were real, with his huge blue eyes and the way he treats Dean like he’s actually worth something, like he’s someone who deserves to be cared for. No, Dean didn't ask for any of this... but it might not be all bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title courtesy of Foreigner.
> 
> Warnings: This work deals with child abuse as one of it's main themes. This could be uncomfortable or triggering for many people and I would very much prefer you did not read it if you think that might be a problem for you.
> 
> Feel free to contact me if you need further information (or for whatever <3): http://anjika-flan.tumblr.com/
> 
> I'd also like to thank my sweet beta: allalrightagain (tumblr: http://allalrightagain.tumblr.com/)  
> And my lovely artist: iwannaliveindeansdimples (tumblr: http://iwannaliveindeansdimples.tumblr.com/)  
> Thank you for your help, your work and just for being adorable and awesome. <3

“So get this-”

Sam’s sitting at the table in the bunker’s library. Dean yawns as he plunks himself into the chair across from him. Sam’s preening over his laptop, enthusiasm rolling off of him in waves, not even looking at Dean as he hits keys with a fervor that just makes Dean sleepier out of sympathy and it is too early for this.

The last few months have been hard for them both and when Sam looks up with a grin Dean does his best to return it, though the grimace he gets back proves that that might have not had the effect he intended. “Haven’t had your coffee yet, have you?”

Dean grunts guterily in response and leans his head back in the chair pretending to go back to sleep.

He hears Sam move back to the keys unperturbed. “Yeah, figured.” He taps the keys a bit more and Dean feels himself actually slipping back to sleep with the steady rhythm until Sam, with a tone that implies Dean ought to be paying attention says: “Well anyway, I found us a case.”

Dean tilts his head in Sam's direction rolling his eyes. “Oh really? I hadn’t guessed from your “I found us a case” catchphrase.”

“Catchphr-?” Sam stops himself shooting Dean his most stubborn little brother bitchface. “You know what, forget it.” Sam clicks a few more buttons and turns the computer sideways so they could both see the screen.

Dean squints blearily at the screen. There’s some pictures and... missing persons reports? But honestly he’s just too lazy to bother, Sam will explain it to him if he feigns ignorance well enough. So he puts on his best derp face for Sam’s benefit. “Yeah, I have no idea what I’m looking at here.”

Sam graces him with a long suffering bitchface that clearly says “I know what you’re doing but I don’t care enough to fight with you” and Dean considers just how many bitchfaces Sam seems to keep tucked away in his repertoire. Sam, ignoring Dean because he is not having any of Dean’s shit and clicks through the articles rapid fire prattling off the information like he had expected to give a TED talk on the damn subject. “Maddie Wilson, mother of two, disappeared.” Click. “John Robertson, employee at the local walmart, no family, disappeared.” Click. “Heather Clark, missing.” Click. “Rachel Zatzman, supposed abducted.” Click. “Benjamin Reese, never made it to work for the past five days.” Click-

Dean yawns exaggeratedly and starts talking in the middle of it. “Right so, we got a string of disappearances, anything that connects them to our kind of thing?”

Sam swivels on his chair to better face Dean.“Well that’s the thing... “ Dean tenses, whatever was giving Sam that constipated look was going to be a headache for him, he knew it. “From what I can tell, they all disappeared within the radius of four city blocks; Ms. Wilson on her way to get groceries, Robertson on his way to work, Clark and Zatzman were both going to school. It’s a small residential neighborhood-”

Blah blah blah, Dean cuts Sam off, trying to move it along so he can get on the road and grab some coffee. “Apple pie central, got it.”

Sam rolls his eyes and Dean grins back at him, enjoying annoying Sam with immaturity. Sam glares pointedly at his brother and continues as if there had been no interruption. “So people have been disappearing for months and this week there was a witness.”

“Ok, so?” Still didn’t sound like their kinda thing.

“Well she says she saw a gust of wind.”

Dean doesn’t even bother hiding the sarcasm from his voice. “Wind.” Oh yeah, they often investigated forces of nature. Hurricanes? Totally supernatural. Ghosts, man. Dean’s huff of indignation must have raised Sam’s ire because he replies somewhat haughtily.

“Wind. With a face.” As if that made it any less flimsy.

Dean cringes, a hand coming up to squeeze at the bridge of his nose. “And what did the wind do?”

“Grabbed her friend and ate his soul.”

Oh. Yeah, that did sound like them. “Awesome.”

***

Dean grips the leather of the steering wheel tight under his palms. This was something that put him at ease, having his baby roaring under him. Probably the most at ease he’s felt in a while. They have a case; he has focus–direction–and it’s not something crazy like angels or demons or all the other bullshit he’s had to deal with in the past few years. It’s been a bad few years.

He rolls his head to the side and watches Sam’s profile briefly while he rattles off the usual pleasantries to the local PD. “Yes I know, it’s very unusual, but about the Clark file, do you have any information on-” Dean turns back to the road, tuning Sam out and focusing on the drive; if the cops give him any relevant info, he’ll share it. 

Dean is just getting into his groove_the road stretching before him, foot lying gently on the accelerator, the hum of the impala lulling him into his usual driving stupor– when Sam hangs up the phone with a little more force than what seems entirely necessary. Causing Dean to tense back up.

Dean chances a brief glance at Sam, clearing his throat. “So there’s definitely something fishy about that alley. We should stop there once we’ve settled in.” Dean offers Sam who appears to be agitated after his call. “You find anything on the witness?”

“Yeah, got the address. They were pretty pissy about feds wanting to talk to the crazy witness, though.” Sam replies. 

Dean shrugs. “What else is new.”

Dean can see Sam shifting to face him out of the corner of his eye. “We don’t have any idea what this is, are you sure you want go in blind?”

“We’ll just take a look, we can’t know what we’re up against if we don’t have any clues.”

“And a witness is a pretty good lead.” Sam replies pissily.

“We’re just gonna case the area, then straight off to the witness. No big deal. Come on man, when have I ever steered you wrong?” Dean grins his most petulant grin at Sam. 

“Are you really...” Sam sounds distinctly defensive and it just makes Dean want to tease him more. His grin grows wide and Sam holds up a hand. “Don’t, just-” Sam flicks on the radio, drowning out anything Dean might have said next. 

Dean pouts at Sam but then Zeppelin comes on and he is thoroughly distracted, damn sneaky little brother.

***

“Well this was a dead end.” Dean says staring a a literal dead end alleyway. Hah, ‘cause people were being killed here. He snickers a little at his own joke and can practically feel Sam’s judging glare on the back of his head.

Sam barks at Dean across the alley. “They were all in this spot - they were found in this spot. This has to be where it’s attacking.”

Dean paces a little down the alley back towards his little brother. “Look, Sam, there’s nothing here. I mean, no EMF, no sulfur. There should be something, you sure this is the right place?” 

Sam shrugs watching Dean. Dean can practically see the gears turning in his head. “It’s definitely the right place, maybe we should ask around? Canvass the area, a little?”

Dean starts making a hmm-ing sound as he considers dressing up in their FBI gear and dropping in on random folks in the area at - he looks at his watch- 11am. “How far out’s that witness?”

Sam shrugs. “Other side of town, she should be home, PD said she was on psych leave.”

“Awesome.” Dean sighs, futzing with the EMF reader in his hands. Maybe it was broken. 

Something in the air shifts. Dean blinks, the EMF coming alive in his hands. “Hey, Sam, look at this.” He lifts the EMF in the air, looking up at Sam. Only to see something rising from the ground behind him. “Sam...” It really did look like wind or something, maybe mist? A cloud of swirling black fog which, sure enough has something like a face in it and dripping blood red eyes. 

Panic hits him like a shotgun and Dean lunges forward. “SAM!” 

Sam is staring at Dean in shock. “What-” He turns but it’s too slow and the–the whatever-the-hell-it-is– is definitely not waiting for Sam to acknowledge it. Dean is pushing past Sam before he can even think about how he is supposed to defend them from... from swirly mist. The only thing on his mind is “watch out for Sammy”.

In his rush Dean’s shoulder connects with Sam’s chest and he hears Sam hit the ground and call out: “DEAN!” 

Dean tries to get away but pushing Sam completely halts his momentum and there isn’t time. He sees the mist rush towards him and then he’s surrounded by it. It feels oily and wrong, pushing its way into his throat and he coughs as the air that isn’t air rushes into his lungs, suffocating him. 

He can’t breathe, can barely see. Next to him, Sam’s rushing to his feet and - and then Dean’s vision is fading, failing and he falls, struggles to breathe, writhing on the ground. The mist is everywhere, all around him and he knows it has been only seconds but it feels like an eternity, it feels like some part of him is being torn away violently. 

Everything is wrong, everything hurts. Someone is calling his name – a voice he doesn’t recognize. He pulls in a breath only to get a mouthful of salt as a huge calloused hand shoves it down his throat. He coughs, the salt burning inside him and something unnatural rushes out of his lungs taking something with it. 

Dean is shaking, his hands clawing at the asphalt, his eyes burning where salt got in them. He coughs and coughs, trying to clear his lungs, his mouth, his throat. He feels wrong. He can’t stop shaking.

Strong hands squeeze his shoulders, and a deep voice calls his name. “Dad?” He croaks as he coughs up more salt mixed with his own blood. He’s coughed his throat raw. For a second, he wonders how hard he’s been hit this time that he feels disoriented... and why the hell does he have salt in his lungs?! This must be a hunt. Dean blinks up at Dad but... it isn’t his Dad. Who the hell?!

The large man looks equally shocked. “Dean?!”

Dean stares, wide-eyed, at the giant, shuffling back on his butt and raising his arms protectively. Who the hell is this guy?! Where’s Dad, where’s Sammy? How does this guy know Dean’s name? 

The tall man stands and paces around him. “I told you this was a bad idea! We should have talked to the witness first! Now you’re- you’re- look at you!”

Dean stares at the man now pacing back and forth, hands clutching his too-long hair. He keeps giving Dean horrified looks. What the hell? Why does he keep looking at him like that and who the hell is he? What the hell is going on?! Dean looks down at himself. And why the hell are his clothes so huge? He does tend to wear Dad’s old hand-me-downs, but he doesn’t recognize any of these. The shoes alone are at least three sizes too big which will make running harder than it has to be and _that_ is a problem. He looks up at the big guy. A big problem.

“Ok... Ok, this isn’t so bad; we can fix this.” The man starts pulling at his hair and Dean would be concerned about him pulling it out if it didn’t look like he desperately needed the haircut. The man takes another nervous look at Dean and shakes his head. “I’m gonna call Cas. Cas’ll know what to do... yeah...” He nods to himself reassuringly or something, “yeah.” He looks real panicked, nervous. Panicky adults are not good to be around. They are dangerous and volatile.

The man lifts a... what the hell is that? It kinda looks like something out of Star Trek and he half expects to hear the tricorder sound when the man flips it open. Whatever it is, he starts talking to it and turns his back to Dean. 

Dean sees his chance. He jumps to his feet, and wobbles briefly in his giant shoes, but adjusts quickly; this isn’t the first time that second-hand clothing has made a getaway harder than it has to be. With a little shuffling he manages to get a hold on himself and runs, vowing to stuff the shoes with paper at the first opportunity. 

He hears the man talking to the tricorder as he dashes past. “Cas?! Cas, we have a probl-DEAN!” 

Dean can hear him yelling but he keeps running. He has to find Dad, or at least find his way to Sam. Sam might be alone, he might be in danger. Dean has no idea how he ended up in this alley with the strange tall guy. He might have been taken; Sam might have been kidnapped, hurt. He needs to find him, take care of Sammy. That’s what he needs to do. The first and last thing he thought about every day, the only thing that mattered in life. He twists around a corner and he hears the man pocketing his tricorder and running after him.

Crap! As a giant, he would be fast, wouldn't he? Dean just has to be more clever. And since that’s generally how he deals with these situations, he already has some ideas. He just hopes that what they say about big, bulky guys is true and gigantor back there is as dumb as he looks.

Dean runs down the street, building, alley, building, alley. His legs burn and he feels exhausted. He shouldn’t be so tired already, what the hell had that guy done to him? Had he been drugged? Was that why he doesn’t remember anything? He passes another building and spots a fence at the end of the alley. Good. He twists his neck around to see the sasquatch barrelling after him. He is big, bulky. Dean is small and lean and can get over the fence and hide before the giant managed his way over. 

Dean sprints down the alley and leaps onto the chain link fence. 

“DEAN! Dean, wait!” The man is huffing, sounding tired. Good.

Dean heaves a heavy breath in and flips over the top of the fence, landing in a crouch. He takes a second to catch his breath and glances back at gigantor. The man is running down the alley, and, with his height, could probably just jump the fence. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Dean turns around and runs full out. He ducks down the next alleyway he sees, then another. He runs down alleyways and around buildings until he feels safe enough to catch his breath.

He stands, panting, at the entrance to an alley several blocks from where he’d woken up. It wouldn’t be good to be on the street if the guy showed up. He looks around for a place to hide out and is relieved to see a Gas ‘n’ Sip across the street. With another glance around he takes a deep breath and walks into the gas station, doing his best to look as inconspicuous as possible. 

He’s had some experience with this kind of thing. Keep your head down, don’t do anything to look memorable, duck the cameras. He shoulders around a rack of candy bars, pocketing a Mars Bar on the way. He isn’t sure how long he’s been out or where he is, but if there’s one thing he’s sure of, it’s that Sam loves Mars Bars Dean hopes the treat will be enough apology for his absence. Assuming, of course, that Sam is safe.

Dean skirts around more shelves while idly watching the doors. He’s pretty sure he’s lost the large man, but he can’t be sure. If he is still being chased, he would definitely need backup.

He winds his way around the store again before approaching the cash register. “Hey, mister, you got a payphone?” 

The cashier gives him a look of annoyance. “Don’t most kids your age carry cellphones now-a-days?”

Dean blinks up at the man. Who the hell trusts a kid with a cellphone? Those things are expensive and huge. Portable phone his lilly-white ass.

The disbelief must have shown on his face because the cashier was sighing. “Sorry kid, hasn’t been a payphone in the area in nearly five years. You need to call your parents or something?” 

Dean shifts his weight, biting his lip. If he says yes, this guy might give him a phone to use, but... who the hell is he going to call? He doesn’t know which motel they are staying at right now. He needed a phone book. Given the fact that this backwards town doesn’t seem to have a payphone, it’s pretty unlikely they have a phone book. 

“I-” The door jingles and Dean jumps, turning back, hoping against hope he won’t see the sasquatch but– how the hell?

The giant grins at the cashier. “Hey, sorry, hope he hasn’t given you any trouble. He’s with me.”

The cashier makes a grunt of acknowledgement and Dean just stares blankly at the big dude. Shit. This isn’t good. Should he make a scene? Try to play the terrified kid running from some psycho? Should he run for the door? 

“This your kid?” The cashier grunts eyeing the sasquatch.

“Oh no.” He pats Dean on the back and Dean flinches. “He’s my little brother. Got a little lost. Been looking for him all day.” The tall man crouches down, his hands tightening on Dean’s shoulders the look in his eyes clearly saying ‘don’t even think about running’ before smiling back up at the cashier like everything is perfectly normal. “Excuse us.” 

Dean’s being dragged out of the gas station in a daze he’s so screwed. “You ok, Dean?”

Dean swallows heavily and pushes the fear down. He’s been in worse situations. He’ll get away, he just needs to wait for the right moment. He smiles his best fake smile up at the man. “Oh, I’m just awesome.” 

“Right.” The tall guy reaches around into Dean’s jacket pocket and pulls out a tiny thing that Dean has never seen in his life. 

Dean blinks at the tiny device. He saw one just like it when the tall man was freaking out earlier, before he ran. This is a cellphone? It’s so small. His fear forgotten, Dean takes the phone from the man and examines it, amazed. When he opens it, “recent calls” shows up on the screen. He is relieved to see one labeled ‘Sam’. Ok, so, he has a number to call Sam, but... why does he have this thing? And when did phones get so tiny?

The big guy looms over his shoulder and taps the screen where it says Sam. Dean flinches back from him, having not realized how awkwardly close he was. At that moment, the sasquatch’s pocket starts making a ringing noise. He chuckles and pulls out his phone, putting it to his ear. 

Dean hears his amused greeting coming tinnily from the matching phone in Dean’s hands. “Hi Dean.”

Shit.

***

Dean sits on a chest high wall watching the giant-Sam pace agitatedly. “So... what year do you think is it, then?” giant-Sam asks.

 

Dean shrugs, taking a bite out of the Mars Bar from the Gas ‘n’ Sip. “uh... 1993, dude. What year do you think it is?” he says around a mouthful of nougat and caramel.

“Ninteen... ninty...” giant-Sam pauses and stares at the sky before leveling his gaze back at Dean. “You’re 14? You’re way too small to be-” Sam rubs at his face with the back of a hand. “This is crazy, this is insane. It was just supposed to be a spirit, how the hell did it end up like this?”

Dean raises an eyebrow at giant-Sam as he paces, clearly getting more and more agitated. Dean has plenty of experience with frustrated, angry adults and if Sam turned out anything like Dad... “So I got hit with a spell or something? Spells are generally reversible. So we just need to find the thing that did this and I’ll be back to being an old geezer in not time.”

Sam snorts. “Old- Jesus Dean you’re just in your thirties.”

“Like I said, a dinosaur.” Dean smirks cheekily around the chocolate. “Look, it’s not like it isn’t weird for me, man. The last time I saw you, you were ten and about two feet tall.” He makes a point of tilting his head up at Sam. “I’m still taller than you, right?” 

Giant-Sam sighs and rubs at his brow. He looks frustrated but much less volatile, he sits next to Dean on the stone wall. Wordlessly, Dean offers him the half-eaten bar. Sam takes a bite out of it without taking it from Dean’s hand. “Ok so,” Sam swallows, which seems to derail his thoughts. “I haven’t had one of those in ages.” He explains, sounding surprised. “You used to bring me them from time to time. I didn’t have the heart to tell you I didn’t like them; you thought they were such a treat.”

Dean opens his mouth to protest, no. His Sam loves them, for sure. But he’s cut off by giant-Sam’s musings. “So, the curse, or whatever, de-aged you and you don’t remember anything past 14?”

 

Dean shrugs. “Seems accurate.”

 

“Right, ok.” Sam stares at the gas station across the street, though Dean’s fairly sure he isn’t actually looking at it. “So we just need to find the thing that did this to you and stop it.” Sam pulls out a notepad and starts thumbing through it, mumbling about ghosts and hoodoo curses.

Dean has seen this before, with Dad. More often than not, John Winchester spent all his time writing in that journal of his. Dean often wonders if Dad kept track of the money he left them and how long he’d be gone, because he always seems to be gone more and more and leaves less and less money. And hey, if they are still alive when Dad gets back, it must have been enough, right? But no, it really wasn’t. 

Big Sam, like Dad, is starting the usual obsession with taking notes and next they’ll be in libraries researching curses and hoodoo and witches. Seems like their lives haven’t changed at all. But this time it isn’t Dad, this is supposedly his little brother as an adult and no way is he going to take the same treatment he did from Dad. If “they” are on a case, then “they” are going to finish it, curse or no curse. 

Sam’s voice cuts through his ever darkening thoughts. “Cas should be here soon, let’s get checked into a hotel, ok?” 

Dean sighs. They just need a place where this “Cas” person could find them. They would hunt after that.

***

Dean watches Sam doing research on the... computer? God, when did computers get so small and portable? Dean’s seen a portable computer before, but they were big boxes, not whatever the hell Sam has going on, all sleek and futuristic looking. Goddamn the future is lazy. He’s used to pouring over news articles in libraries day in day out when Dad takes Dean with him on the rare hunt. But Sam, Sam can just flick on his little binder-shaped thing and have access to all of the world’s libraries? Or at least that’s what Sam was willing to share before he disappeared into his computer. 

Dean shifts in his seat on the motel bed. It’s been hours now, and Dean’s hungry. Not too hungry, not days-of-no-food hungry, like when Dad would go on a hunt without leaving them any money and Dean had to steal and do... other unsavory things to feed Sam and was too afraid to do enough to feed himself as well. 

Dean shuffles to the edge of the bed where he can get a better look at Sam. He doesn’t even look like his Sammy. All sharp angles and massive height. Sammy is a small, pudgy thing, all baby fat and chubby cheeks. Plus, this guy is some sort of massive jerk. It’s been hours. Hours and they’ve barely spoken a word to each other since they ate that Mars Bar outside the Gas ‘n’ Sip. No explanation about the case, about the curse that’s apparently made Dean younger. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was acting eerily like Dad, Dean wouldn’t even be sure they were actually related.

Dean clears his throat, loudly. 

Sam doesn’t look up from where he’s typing madly. “I’m a little busy, Dean.”

“Yeah, but-”

Sam’s voice cuts over Dean’s impatiently. “Figuring out how to fix you.” Sam finally looks up from the computer, his face a mask of pity. “Just be patient, ok? I’ll figure out where this witch is and Cas’ll be here soon, so maybe he can do something.” 

Dean glares back. He doesn’t need pity, he needs answers. He scrubs a hand through his short spiky hair. Short, quick questions, something that can’t be ignored. It’s a trick that usually works with Dad. Sometimes, as long as he wasn’t pissed. “Who’s Cas?” Dean makes an effort to sound as petulant as he can. Sam is still his little brother, no matter how gargantuan he’s become; if he sounds angry, maybe it’ll be enough to get at least some answers.

Sam blinks, his face changing from pity to disbelief. “Oh. Oh wow.” He looks away at the wall. “Yeah you have no idea about- shit.”

Dean practically growls. If there was one thing he really hated, it was getting the runaround. “What?! I won’t know anything if you don’t talk to me and if you haven’t noticed it’s pretty much been silent since you brought me here.”

Sam winces. Dean feels a smug satisfaction out of being able to make Sam look repentant. “Yeah, yeah... ok, sorry. So, for starters, angels are a thing.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Uhuh, yeah. I’m 14, not an idiot.”

“Yeah, I know you didn’t want to believe it even when Cas pulled you out of Hell.”

Dean rolls his eyes _again_. “And by out of hell you mean-”

“Hell, man. You decided to take a vacation down under.” Dean wants to protest. Hell? That was just crazy. But Sam just keeps right on going. “Anyway, it was a pretty big deal when we first encountered them, you were really freaked out. I mean, I can’t remember the last time I saw you really scared.” Sam smiles in memory, a memory Dean doesn’t know and it just annoys him more. He clears his throat again, indicating Sam get on with it. “Right so... Cas is an angel and he pulled your butt out of hell. He’s a good friend, I mean, despite the angel thing.”

“Despite the angel thing?” Dean croaks, his voice feeling like it was blocked behind something.

“Oh yeah, no, angels are generally... Dicks with wings.” Sam grins like it’s a joke Dean should get. When Dean continues to just stare blankly at him, Sam scratches his neck shrugging. “Bad guys. But Cas is on our side; he’s saved our hides more times than I want to think about.” Sam cranes his neck like he’s looking for the right words. “He’s actually your best friend, I guess.”

Dean raises a brow. “Best friends with an angel, huh? I guess that’s pretty cool.” At least he has some friends. Maybe the future wasn’t that bad if an almighty angel had his back. 

Sam smiles indulgently. “Yeah, anyway-” Sam looks back at the computer, “he should be here soon and he’s got all that angel juice, so he might be able to fix you up so we can get on with this.”

Dean bristles at that. “I can help fine now.”

Sam shakes his head, eyes never leaving the screen. “You’re a child, Dean, you can help when you’re better.”

Dean jumps up off the bed and stomps forcefully on the wooden floor, bitterly enjoying the sound of his too-big boots slamming. “I’m not a child.”

“Yuhuh, tell me that when you’re in your 30s again.” 

The dismissive tone grates on his nerves and Dean storms off to the bathroom and slams the door behind him, which only makes him feel a little better. 

Once in the bathroom, his eyes are drawn to the mirror. He has to admit, he does look really small with the too-big clothing he’s wearing dwarfing him. He doesn’t feel like he should be bigger, just that the clothes are huge. He looks down at himself and wonders if he might be a big as Sam. The pants definitely give that impression where they’re pooling around his ankles. He’s been walking in them for the past few hours and they’re already starting to look ragged at the ends. 

Dean shrugs off the navy overcoat and bends down to roll up his pants. The plaid button-down under the overcoat hangs off of his shoulders, so he takes that off too. He glares down at the remaining t-shirt, which seems like it was a size too small for his bigger self but has been stretched out at the shoulders and well worn in. Apparently, adult him had pretty big shoulders and... He pats his flat tummy and pulls the belt three notches in– well, if he was eating enough to fit a belt that big, things must be going better for them money-wise now. 

He could tuck in the t-shirt. Instead though, he wraps the plaid around his hips and ties it off. He looks back at his reflection and does a half-turn, considering. Well, that’s probably as good as he’s gonna get, unless big-Sam is hiding some kids clothes in their duffels.

Dean’s whole body tenses when he hears the sound of the door opening. Sam’s voice raises loud enough that Dean realizes he’s talking to someone. That must be the angel person. His heart is pounding too fast in his chest. He really wishes Sam hadn’t told him the guy was an angel.

He pauses just long enough to stuff the ends of his shoes with paper, a trick he picked up when he’d run out of shoes as a kid and he needed to make use of Dad’s hand-me-downs. It wasn’t a perfect solution but at least they wouldn’t fall off now. Taking one last look at his reflection, he unties the red and grey plaid, fitting it back on and rolling up the sleeves to the elbows, then slips back out into the room. 

He looks up at the man in the trenchcoat. Ok. That’s not what he was expecting. The angel looks disheveled and tired and, from the look he gives Dean, it’s clear Sam hasn’t told him about their situation yet. 

“Uh, hey.” He gives the angel a little wave. And is surprised when he smiles gently in response.

“Hello Dean.” The angel squints at him, tilting his head slightly like he just needs a better angle and he’ll be able to see Dean through the curse.

Dean just watches him warily. He was willing to let the fact that angels were a thing go but... honestly he didn’t really trust anyone in this room. This Sam was a stranger, and Cas? He didn’t even know the guy. 

“Yeah, so, best guess at this point is probably a witch.” Sam tells the angel and the angel guy quirks his head at Sam and that’s got to be some sort of angel thing because he keeps looking at them really strangely. Like a bird. Dean takes a moment to wonder if he has big fluffy wings hiding under the overcoat. “You have any ideas?”

The angel turns his gaze back to Dean. “Maybe.” And suddenly he’s right there in front of Dean, who flinches back, abruptly nervous. This guy’s an angel and he’s friggin’ weird and like six feet tall and Dean’s only five foot five and doesn’t know him, like at all.The angel reaches towards him with two fingers out and Dean dodges back a few steps. His heart is pounding and Dean’s about to fight or flight his way outta here. 

The angel looks taken aback and like he’s hurt by Dean’s reaction, but what did he really expect popping up right in front– and– and he’s a friggin’ angel! What the hell did he expect?!

“My apologies, Dean.” the calm voice pulls Dean back from the precipice of... of something, and Dean squints back at him, the formal way of talking seeming really weird all of a sudden and Dean can’t help the awkward half-laugh that comes from him.

The angel crouches down so they’re on eye level and Dean stares at him, wide-eyed. It’s so surreal; how is this guy an angel? He seems so... dorky? ”Dean? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t...” He looks at Sam hopelessly but Sam’s on his computer again and not paying attention and... he’s supposed to be his brother! He’s supposed to have support why is he alone with this– this– 

“Dean.” Dean’s eyes flick back to the soft blue ones in front of him and he feels like a dick for being nervous; what the hell is wrong with him? He’s used to being alone, he’s used to being the caretaker, so why is he looking to Sam for help? He doesn’t even know this Sam. 

Dean swallows heavily; dude’s an angel, one of the good guys– hell, Sam said he was old-Dean’s best friend. He’s not gonna hurt Dean, he’s not. “I don’t remember you.” His voice is absurdly small but he can’t seem to stop being nervous. This guy isn’t human.

The angel nods. “Ah.” He gives Dean a barely-there smile. “It was rude of me to attempt to touch you without introducing myself. My name is Castiel. I am an Angel of the Lord.” 

Dean gives him an incredulous look. “Uh, yeah, Sam mentioned.” Though he didn’t say his name. Castiel, Castiel. It’s weird, but it suits an angel, he supposes.

Castiel is watching him carefully as if he’s afraid Dean is some skittish antelope. “Ah, good. In that case, may I...?” Castiel brings a hand up as if to touch Dean, but makes no move to actually do so. And Dean lets the moment drag out, curious.

When Castiel continues to wait patiently for Dean to make the first move, Dean shrugs one shoulder. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to check you for any residual energy of the spell. See if I can discover it’s origin and if it’s possible for me to undo it.” Castiel watches him and remains unnervingly still. So Dean just nods, wanting it over with.

Castiel’s fingers are cool on Dean’s forehead and he closes his eyes enjoying the feel of someone touching him so gently. He would never be able to admit it out loud, but, god, did he crave these small moments. It doesn’t even seem weird that he doesn’t know this guy.There’s something about Castiel’s touch in particular that puts him at ease. The fingers pull away all too suddenly and Dean nearly topples forward into the angel, surprising himself at how much he’d been leaning into the other’s touch.

The angel rights himself from where he was crouching by Dean and walks back to Sam, completely oblivious to the effect he just had on Dean and Dean feels nearly horrified of how much he– no. Dean shakes his head, trying his best to clear the warm fuzzies from it. No. Absolutely not. He’s not going to get attached. He’s not. Though he can see now why Sam said big-Dean was really close with the guy. Castiel was... something.

“The spell appears to be tethered to something external.” Castiel is standing by Sam to get his attention, but is addressing them both and Dean feels an absurd relief at that. Finally someone isn’t ignoring him or treating him like a useless child.

Sam looks up from his notes. “What do you mean?” 

“Dean is still connected to the source of the spell, the monster that was syphoning his life-force. It seems becoming young was a side effect of having his life drained.” Cas explains.

Sam pauses at that. “We didn’t see any other children.”

Cas tilts his head in thought. “Did anyone else get interrupted? It’s possible the creature completely devoured the other victims. What interrupted the process?”

“Salt.” Dean cuts in. Sam and Cas both look at Dean as if they’d forgotten he was there. “There was salt in my mouth. It didn’t like it.”

“What do you mean ‘it didn’t like it’?” Sam asks Dean.

Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know.” He remembers something rushing out of him but... he touches his chest. “It ran away from the salt, that’s all I remember.”

“Do you remember what it looked like?” Cas asks gently.

Dean thinks back to the moment he woke up. “I didn’t see it.”

Sam sighs. “You did, adult you did.” He sounds disappointed. Sam looks over at Cas. “So, it doesn’t like salt, feeds off life-force... that’s all we have. Any ideas?”

“It could be any number of things.” Cas replies.

Sam nods, “That’s what I figured.” Sam flips the laptop shut and gathers his things. “Alright, I’ve got a witness to talk to. Can you keep an eye on him?”

Dean jolts to full awareness and glares at Sam. “What?! This is our hunt, right? I’m coming.”

Sam turns back to look back at Dean while he stands with his arms full by the door. “Dean, you’re a kid. Stay with Cas.”

Dean glares at the large man that’s supposed to be his little brother. “You’re just going to leave me here?! I can help!”

Sam groans. “Dean, you’re a child. I can’t take you to question a witness.”

“I could at least come with, I can stay in the car when you do the questioning.” Dean replies.

Sam rolls his eyes in frustration, picking up the computer and duffel. “Cas.” His voice comes out pleadingly. 

Cas looks startled at being thrown into the brother’s argument. “I-” He looks from Sam to Dean and back to Sam.

“Just watch over him, you’re good at that. Keep him out of trouble.” With that Sam is out the door. Dean glares after him.


	2. Chapter 2

The door slams and Sam is gone. Castiel turns to Dean to attempt to diffuse Dean’s burgeoning temper when Dean’s stomach makes a growling noise. He changes course, knowing Dean well enough to decide that food would be the best way to calm him. “Perhaps you would be interested in some lunch?”

Dean opens his mouth with rebellion in his eyes, but his stomach makes another unhappy sound and he deflates. “Yeah, actually. I could use a meal.” Dean shrugs and tugs at his too-long shirt, trying to make himself more comfortable in clothes that clearly don’t fit the way they should anymore. Castiel can’t help but smile softly at him. 

Dean squints at him suspiciously. “What?” 

“You just...” Castiel shrugs subconsciously mimicking Dean. There is no way he is going to tell Dean Winchester that he makes an adorable child, he would be paying for that for years. “You look different as a child.” Before Dean can read into it, Castiel opens the door and urges him forward. “There is a diner just down the street. You are still partial to diner food, yes? I saw a sign that said they have pie.” 

His voice raises slightly on the word pie and it has the desired effect as Dean brushes past him with a hurried “As long as you’re paying” and they’re on their way out of the motel. 

Castiel’s smile broadens. The boy may look different, but he is undoubtedly still Dean Winchester. And if he’s a little happy Sam ditched them to hunt, well Dean doesn’t need to know that.

***

Castiel enjoys watching Dean eat. It’s an odd thing to be entertained by, but he can’t help himself. Dean just loves food. He loves to eat and it makes Castiel wish he could enjoy the taste of food so that he could understand the joy Dean gets out of it. 

Dean’s filling his mouth with a far too large bite of greasy, medium-rare ground meat and cheese while he’s already got a handful of partially chewed fries in his mouth when he levels Castiel with a glare. Dean swallows hastily, nearly choking, only to ask “What?”

Castiel feels himself blink slowly as he realizes he’s been staring with what was probably a far too openly interested look on his face. “Nothing.” He shrugs turning away and trying to avoid looking at Dean, if only to make him more comfortable. “You must have been very hungry.”

From the corner of his eye, he can see the colour rise on Dean’s cheeks and he slows to eating his fries one at a time.

Castiel feels like he’s ruined something between them. He should have remembered the talks about personal space Dean had had with him early on. He’s pretty sure there was an addendum about staring in there somewhere. At some point, Dean had stopped questioning his staring and the way he always gravitated into Dean’s orbit. This Dean, though, hadn’t had the time to adjust. Castiel looks back at Dean. “You don’t need to slow down on my account. I’ve seen you eat many times before.” 

Now Dean is giving him a very strange look which he doesn’t understand. “Dude. You don’t just...” Dean grins and a laugh comes out of him. Castiel can’t help but smile along. He’s so different. Like all of the harshness that had worn away at him was just suddenly wiped clean. “You’re a weird guy, Cas.” 

Something strange jumps in Castiel’s chest. It’s the first time Dean has called him Cas since the transformation took away his memories. Castiel feels warmth rise within him, a small but steady fondness for the human that he’s always felt, but now feels more protective. This Dean is so young and innocent and Castiel wants to keep him safe more than anything. Keep that innocence, protect him from becoming the hard-edged soldier that his life turned him into. 

“So angels are real, huh?” Dean asks. Castiel is jolted from his musings and notices that Dean has finished his burger and is absently picking at the leftover fries while he watches Castiel. 

Castiel shrugs a shoulder. “It seems we are. I remember you being rather surprised when we first met.” He grimaces slightly at the memory of Dean refusing to believe that Heaven saved him, though ultimately it wasn’t for “the greater good” as Castiel had believed at the time. Dean turned out to be right, but that doesn’t mean that it wasn’t good that Dean was saved. Castiel, at the very least, would not like to live in a world where he’s never laid a hand on Dean Winchester to raise him from Perdition, however many things have happened that he regrets. He looks Dean in the eyes, seeing him there, young or not, just confirms that it was all worth it. 

“So if angels are real, then God is? The Bible’s like a thing?” Something in Dean’s eyes is hesitant, worried. Castiel can tell the answer means more to Dean than he is saying. Even as young as 14, Dean still can’t just say what he wants to. Not for the first time, Castiel wonders why Heaven forced John and Mary together. The union may have been foretold, but it clearly did nothing good for their family. It would have been different if John was the one the Azazel took but.

“God exists but hasn’t been around in some time. The Bible is poorly interpreted scripture translated through many human languages, which are outstandingly imprecise for describing the word as God intended. Ultimately nothing is left of the message that God had intended humans to know. Why do you ask?” 

Dean shrugs and turns away. “I just- the Bible says a lot of crap, y’know. Anyway it’s not important.”

Castiel watches Dean closely for a moment as he scans the room and his eyes land on a few women appreciatively. Before Castiel can comment, Dean has rounded the table and is sitting on Cas’ side of the both, poking into his side and nodding at one particular waitress. “Hey, do angels, y’know?”

Castiel looks at the waitress Dean is pointing out, confused. “I do not know.”

Dean gives him a skeptical look. “Y’know, girls?”

Castiel raises an eyebrow. “Girls? That woman is at least a few years over the age of majority, she would not be considered a girl, Dean.”

Dean glares at him with what Castiel has begun to understand is one of Sam’s bitchfaces. “Yes, Cas. Y’know, girls? Sex?”

Castiel’s brain freezes mid thought. “Oh.”

“Oh?” Dean replies.

Castiel looks back at his hands folded neatly on the table. So they were going to have this conversation again. He’d hoped Dean was too young to do this, but no. He remembers how Dean had smiled and laughed after the experience in the den of iniquity, as Castiel had called it at the time. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad going through this again. He likes when Dean teases him, it makes him feel... something. There hadn’t been enough times like that lately. “No.”

“No?” Dean repeats. 

Cas can’t meet his eyes. “Well I-I’m not... I don’t particularly care for girls, though Balthazar was rather fond of them.”

“Oh.” Castiel finally turns back to Dean, who has a slightly uncomfortable look on his face.

“Oh?” Castiel asks.

“You’re more into dudes?”

Castiel tilts his head. “No.”

“No?”

Castiel stares at Dean for a long moment. A part of him honestly wishes– but it doesn’t matter, nothing would ever come of it. “I do not understand the obsession with...” he cringes a little, “sex. I’ve never had an interest in participating in such activities.”

Castiel can see the dawning realization in Dean’s eyes. “But that’s not an angel thing, you know other angels that have?”

Castiel turns back to his hands. “Yes.”

Dean shifts in his seat next to Castiel. “No one’s ever made you... y’know?”

Castiel was starting to get frustrated now. “I truly do not, I don’t understand why you keep saying that Dean.”

“There’s never been anyone that you want to get close to, to hold, to... I don’t know just... do stuff with, sexy stuff?” Dean’s voice is so innocently curious. It seems so different than the last time. Dean is actually listening, interested. Not just pushing him into something. Perhaps because it is not their “last night on Earth”.

“I-” Castiel pauses. It would be a lie to deny it, but it isn’t like that. He knows how he feels about Dean. But he’s never wanted– and he never would want– and nothing could ever come of it. “What I want and what I am capable of giving are different things entirely.”

Dean seems to consider his words for a long moment. “So... you’ve had those feelings, but you can’t act on them?”

Castiel sighs. He doesn’t know how to explain it. Dean has never had a problem with sex and, from what Castiel understands of Dean’s sex life, he’s had no qualms about any sexual experiences. It is so different to how Castiel is that he doubts Dean could ever understand. “I know what it is to love someone but I do not know what it is to want someone” Castiel drops his voice, suddenly wary of the fact he is having this conversation with a minor in public. “-sexually.” He sighs. “I believe the term humans use for it is asexual. I am asexual.” 

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Cas agrees.

There is a short silence before Dean picks up on the obvious. “But you’ve loved someone?”

Castiel proceeds to stare purposefully at his hands. “Yes.”

“And... how does that work?” Dean asks.

Castiel cringes. “It does not.”

“Oh.” Dean shifts back in the booth. “That must be lonely.”

Castiel smiles sadly at his hands. “Perhaps it is a little. I imagine sometimes that maybe if the one I loved returned the feeling I could... maybe... if I could be with them it would be worth it.”

There’s a hand on his shoulder and Castiel looks up into Dean’s piercing hazel-green gaze. “Promise me something, Cas.”

Castiel squints at Dean. He could never deny Dean anything. “What?”

“Don’t let anyone force you into anything you don’t want.” Dean smiles a little, dropping the harshness in his voice. “You’ve got family right, me and Sam? You don’t need someone that only wants you for what you can give them.” 

Castiel’s heart lurches. The concern Dean shows for him, even barely knowing him, already calling him family. It touches him deeply. “Thank you, Dean.” 

Dean lets go of Castiel’s shoulder and shifts away a little in his seat, retreating from anything close to emotions. “Yeah well. I still think you’re weird.”

Castiel smiles, then remembers what Dean had started this conversation to avoid. “Dean. You should know that God does not have any interest in policing the sexual preferences of humans.”

Dean sits still for a long moment, watching the patrons in the restaurant. Finally he meets Castiel’s eyes. “I told you?”

Castiel shakes his head. “You did not need to, Dean.” For a human that was so intent on hiding all of his emotions, Dean was still very bad at hiding it when he checked out women and men.

Dean’s voice comes out hesitantly. “And you’re cool with it?”

“You do not need my permission to be who you are Dean but yes, if it’s important to you that I say it, I am cool with it.”

“That’s... thanks, man.” Dean picks at a nail, trying to look unconcerned. “Does Sam...?”

Castiel watches Dean carefully. “I don’t believe you ever told him. I imagine he wouldn’t mind either.”

“I dunno man. He seems so much like Dad now.”

Castiel frowns a little. He knows John Winchester was responsible for much of Dean’s posturing and discomfort with emotion, but was he the reason that Dean was nearly 40 and still couldn’t face who he was? “John Winchester was not the best role model. You needn’t worry about Sam, he is a much better man. You raised him, after all.”

“Was...” Dean echoes to his hands. 

Oh. Dean didn’t- Castiel switches topics quickly. “If you are done with your meal, perhaps we can order that pie now?”

Dean takes a second to gather himself and Castiel gives him all the time he needs. When Dean finally looks up, he’s grinning. “Dude, yes.”

***

Dean doesn’t expect to be this tired when they get back to the hotel. His feet shuffle and he nearly trips over the small step in the doorway. 

“Dean? Are you alright?” God, Cas is just so damn nice. No one’s watched out for him in a long, long time. Is this what it’s like when he’s older? Having someone to watch his back does seem nice.

Cas is hovering at his arm and keeping him upright and when was the last time someone cared if he was alright? Mom. Mom cared. His Sam was too busy being a kid to worry about stuff like that and he shouldn’t. Dean is the one that worries about Sam, not the other way around, and Dad, well. Dad was more concerned with getting the thing that got Mom than either of them.

Dean leans into Cas’s grip on his arm. He barely knows the guy but... Cas seems to know everything about him, all of his secrets and he... cares. Cas cares about him, it was so bizarre. Dean figures they must be close, had to be, and he wonders how close. He hopes–

Cas’s voice cuts through the fog of his thoughts. “Dean?”

“Jus’ tired.” He pushes away from the strangely comforting hold of the angel and sits down on the bed. “Think I might take a nap ‘till Sam gets back.”

Castiel nods and sits in a plush chair where he can easily see Dean. “I understand, I’ll watch over you.”

Dean kicks off his overlarge boots, sending some rolled up paper flying. Whatever, he’d get it when he got up. “‘s that something you do often?”

Cas seems to deflate. “You usually don’t like it when I offer.”

Dean grins at Cas. Damn the guy is honest, it’s almost refreshing. A yawn takes over and he flops back onto the bed. “Whatever man, just wake me up when Sam gets back?”

“Perhaps he’s right, Dean? You are not yourself, it may be safer to keep you out of harm’s way.”

Dean groans and tilts his head to the side to get a look at the tan-coated angel. “Dude, I’ve been hunting since I was a kid, I can handle a it.”

Cas gives him that odd fond look. “I know you can, but we don’t know the full effects of the curse; there may be side effects that we don’t know about yet.”

Dean makes a noncommittal sound. He understands the concern, but he can handle this. He opens his mouth to protest but Castiel cuts him off. “I know you want to be helping. I understand. I will wake you once Sam returns. Rest.”

Dean nods. He is so _tired_. He barely lets his eyes close before the world fades away.

***

Growling.

He can hear it surrounding him.

“RUN!”

He turns. There is a man, a tall man in Dad’s leather jacket, short spiked hair, his silhouette showing a distinctive set of bowlegs. 

“RUN!”

The growling grows louder, and the man shoves him forward. “Go, now!” and he does, he runs .He hears the sound of a knife being drawn from a sheath, the man calling to the dogs, taunting them. Dean glances nervously over his shoulder as he runs. The man grins at the dark, wolfish shadows surrounding him. Dean is about to call out a warning when one of the shadowy monsters pounces. A spray of red and the man is down, several of the monstrous dogs tearing at him, rending flesh from his bones. 

Dean can’t breathe.

Why can’t he breathe?

He loses his balance, his feet crumpling under himself, and he holds his chest. He can’t breathe.

He can’t...

Can’t–

“WHERE WERE YOU?!” A hand hits his face, palm open, no lasting marks.

Dean shakily looks up into the livid face of his father. He manages to pull in a breath around his bruised ribs. “I-I-we needed food.”

“I left you enough, what the hell did you do with it?!”

It wasn’t enough, it was never enough. Dean had forgone meals for days to make sure Sam ate, but it still wasn’t- “I’m sorry, I tried.”

“Try harder!” Dad grabs him by the collar and pulls him to his feet. “You need to be better, you need to be stronger. What good are you if you can’t even watch over Sammy?!”

Dean stares down at the floor, his face stinging, his ribs aching. “I’m sorry.” He struggles to keep his voice from cracking and is relieved that he doesn’t give his father a reason to punish him further. Not that it always stopped him.

“Look at me Dean! Are you a man or not?! Men look each other in the eye when they talk.”

“Yes, sir.” Dean replies, forcing himself to look up at his dad. He does his best to school his face into something strong, not the pathetic, needy child he feels like. 

His father’s eyes are yellow. 

“Maybe I should just leave you. If you can’t protect Sam than what use are you to me?” Dad’s voice is suddenly calm, calculated. This isn’t the John Winchester Dean knows. 

Dean shivers, he can’t help it. “D-don’t-”

The monster that was once his father takes a step back from him. “Pathetic, are you going to cry? You really are a child, aren’t you?”

The tears come anyway, without his consent. “D-don’t leave me. Please. I don’t want to be alone.”

“You don’t really want us do you? You’d rather be with your angel. That’s what you want now, isn’t it?”

“Wh-what?” Angel? What is he talking about?

Dean’s back slams into a wall, the breath forced from his lungs, and he slides slowly, painfully up to eye level with his yellow-eyed father. A hand presses into his neck, and he is choking. His father smiles at him. “I’ll send you to your angel, son.”

Dean struggles against the grip, struggles to breathe. 

He can’t breathe.

He can’t–

***

Dean lurches awake, pushing blankets away from his face, he can’t breathe, he needs to–

“I’m not taking him with me, Cas! He’s just a kid, could get hurt!” Big-Sam’s voice echoes through the motel door.

“You recall that you both started hunting well before his current age, he knows what he’s doing. He is still Dean, he is stubborn and he will not take no for an answer.” Cas. Shit. Dean scrubs at his face, taking a few deep breaths and calming the stuttering beat of his heart.

“Cas-”

“He’s still your brother, Sam.”

Dean is bundled up in so many blankets he can barely shove them off as he pushes his legs over the side of the bed. His heart rate slows as he realizes where he is. The motel, the spell, that was a dream and he is warm– warm and safe. Dad can’t hurt him anymore, he isn’t here. 

There had been a blanket tucked up to his neck; someone had done that for him. His belly is full, he isn’t hungry. How had he forgotten what it was like to not be hungry? Things are different now. He doesn’t need to be afraid, he is safe and protected. Hell, his best friend is one of God’s angels. How much safer could he be?

He holds a hand to his chest and feels his heart rate fall as he listens to the voices outside the door.

“He’s not Dean, not right now. We don’t know what that spell did to him.”

Cas sounds perturbed and Dean feels a small rush of fondness for the angel flow through him. “What are you saying, Sam?”

“There’s more to this. It’s not a witch. I don’t know what it did to him but something went wrong when I interrupted the spell.”

Dean stares at the closed door of the motel room. The voices get quieter and Dean has to sneak close to the door and press his ear up against it to make out the next few sentences.

“–should be different.” Sam finishes.

“What do you mean?”

“Doesn’t he seem different to you? Off?” Sam asks.

“He seems more open, but he’s younger, more innocent.” Cas replies.

“Dean was never innocent.” Sam grumbles and Dean can’t argue with that.

“Are you sure you’re not just confused with how you remember him and how he actually is?”

“What are you talking about?”

Suddenly and unexpectedly the door flew open and Dean lurched forward landing head first on the front porch.

Sam looks mildly surprised but Castiel just looks disappointed. Dean can’t help but feel sheepish at being caught. “Uh.”

Castiel raises an eyebrow at him. “I’m an angel, Dean, and you aren’t as sneaky as you seem to think you are.”

Dean shrugs, pulling himself off the floor. “Fine, but I’m part of this whether you like it or not and you shouldn’t be hiding things from me.”

Sam laughs, then catches himself. “Seriously Dean, you’re really not one to be lecturing about keeping secrets.”

Dean can feel heat rising in his face, his eyes go wide. What does Sam know? How much has Dean shared with him over the years? Castiel seems to realize Dean’s concern and jumps in at that moment. “He’s right, Sam. He deserves to know what we know about his curse.”

“Cas, he’s not–”

But Castiel soldiers on, undeterred. “It doesn’t matter. He’s strong enough to deal with this, Sam. Did he not serve as your guardian during this time in his life? Should that not be reason enough to think he can handle it?”

“It doesn’t matter! Cas look at him! He’s a child!” Sam replies, waving his arms at Dean.

Dean glares up at them. “I’m right here.” 

Sam turns towards him with such a speed and ferocity that Dean can’t help the instinctive flinch back. Inwardly, he curses himself as soon as he does it. Real men don’t flinch. He tries to catch himself enough to fix Sam with a steady gaze, but from the look on Sam’s face he doesn’t succeed. 

“Dean.” Sam kneels down to eye level. “I didn’t- I wasn’t going to- why did you...?”

Realization dawns on Dean, Sam didn’t know. He’d never told Sam. All these years and he hadn’t... he is abruptly angry with himself, with Sam. He looks away. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or not?”

“I- Dean... did someone hurt you?” Sam’s voice is careful, pleading.

Dean makes his voice stronger. “You’re avoiding the point.”

“No.” Sam is getting angry, Dean can hear it in his voice. “You’re avoiding!” Sam reaches out for Dean but Cas grabs Sam by the shoulder first.

“Sam.” There is something in his voice, something calming but stern.

Sam drops his hands looking frustrated. “We’re talking about this later.” It sounds like a threat. Dean cringes.

Sam pops up ducking past Dean into the motel room, to grab the car keys. “Get in the car.”

Dean doesn’t need to be told twice.

***

Dean sits behind Sam and stares out the window as the city rolls by. 

“She said it looked like wind.” Sam says. He’s been telling them about the witness while they drive back to the spot Dean was attacked. Their plan is to have Cas scope out the area for some magical residue. 

“Any number of things could be perceived as a current of air to the human mind.” Cas replies from the passenger seat.

“Yeah, not much help.” Sam agrees.

Dean’s eyes droop, the repetitive motion of the Impala luring him into a kind of trance. 

“What did she say happened to her companion?” Cas asks Sam. Dean likes Cas’ voice. It’s nice, deep, rumbling...

Sam is saying something about there not being evidence and... nothing left...

There’s a soft thunk as Dean’s head falls onto the window pane and stays there. Something is pushing. His chest hurts. Something is–

“Dean.”

Dean jolts awake with an ungraceful snort.

Sam is grinning at him from the passenger side door. “You want to join us?”

“I-” Dean blinks, adrenaline spiking through him in response to... something... there was something he couldn’t remember. He squints down at his hands. “Yeah. I- yeah.” He shakes himself awake as Sam backs away from the far door and heads in the direction Cas was going. 

Dean kicks open the back door and hops out, his boot catching the asphalt and he just barely manages to catch himself. The ground looks further away than it he remembers it being when he got in the car. 

Slamming the door with more force than intended, he heads down the alley. The sun is beginning to set and the shadows are starting to lengthen. The bright light of sunset is doing a good job of highlighting the dick-all in the area.

“Anything?” Sam is looking at Cas expectantly.

Castiel tilts his head like he’s listening for something. He turns in a slow circle and proceeds to walk the length of the alley and back, eyes closed. 

Dean leans against a brick wall. “Is this... normal for him?”

Sam looks down at Dean. “I- when did you get so short?”

Dean tears his eyes from Cas’ bizarre display to blink up at Sam. He is at least half Sam’s height now, making Sam look even more gigantic. “I don’t know...” Dean looks back at the car. “The car seemed bigger...”

Cas finally stops his pacing a foot from Dean. Cas is shorter than Sam but only by a few inches. Now he looked huge too. Dean is relieved when Cas crouches down so they are on the same level. And then he just _stares_. 

Dean waits for something but... he just watches Dean. “Um, Cas?”

From high above Sam chuckles. “This is normal for him.”

Dean looks up at Sam just long enough to give him a responding bitchface. “Cas? What’s with the 3rd degree?”

Cas pokes Dean in the sternum. Dean’s breath catches, it hurt. He pushes Cas’ hand away. “Hey!”

“There is nothing of the creature in this area, however, there does appear to be residual energy coming from Dean. The monster is still connected to Dean, as we’d previously known but-” He taps Dean’s chest again, gently this time. Dean shivers reflexively. “This is why you’ve been so tired and why you’re getting younger, the monster is still feeding off you.”

“So it’s still after him?” Sam asks from high above.

“It would seem so.” Cas replies, nodding at Dean’s sternum.

Dean looks from one to the other as Sam asks, “Why hasn’t it finished the job? It was instant with the others.”

“I do not know.”

“The salt.” They both look at Dean,who is getting so goddamned tired of the surprised looks he gets every time he tries to help out. “The salt pushed most of it away, but something got stuck.” He rubs his chest, easing a phantom pain. “It’s probably not enough to drain me dry, it’ll need time. So we’ve gotta find it and end it.”

“Yeah, well, we have no way to track it so... I guess it’s back to paperwork?” Sam pulls out his stupid looking future-phone and starts dialing someone.

Dean looks around the alley. Something has been tugging at his chest since the car. He feels like if he just–

“Dean where are you going?” Cas asks from right behind him.

“Just looking around.” He can hear Sam talking to the police, looking for more clues. Dean reaches the end of the alley and the tugging nudges him to the right, he follows it, turning the corner. 

“Dean?”

“Just a minute Cas.” He takes a few more steps and the tugging is definitely stronger now, although it seems like it is still a long way off.

Sam barrels around the corner, evidently finished with the phone. “What are you guys doing?”

“I can track it.” Dean says, a little surprised himself.

“What?” Sam asks, walking up behind him.

Dean motions down the next alley. “It’s this way, I can feel it.”

Sam looks at Dean, then at Cas. “Is that possible?” 

“The monster left a trace of itself in Dean through which they are connected. It’s using this connection to syphon off Dean’s life force. It’s possible that Dean can use the connection to track it, but I wouldn’t recommend Dean get any closer to the monster or the syphoning may get stronger.”

Sam nods. “Yeah. Come on Dean, let’s get you back to the motel.”

Dean twists around to look at them both. “What?”

“You should res–” Sam starts, but Dean isn’t having any of it.

“No! I can find the monster, we need to stop it, what’s the problem?!”

“It’s too dangerous, Dean. Look at yourself. You’re getting younger and younger. We can’t let you put yourself in any more danger. Cas and I will find it.”

“I’m not that young!”Dean growls with frustration.

“We are not arguing about this Dean. You are going to wait in the motel while Cas and I figure this out.”

Dean is fuming. There is no way, no way. He can find it, he can feel where it was! 

Cas places a hand on his shoulder. “Dean” and it is really horribly calming and Dean hates it. “We just want to keep you safe.”

Dean lurches out of his grip. “I can take care of myself.” He says petulantly.

“But you don’t need to.” Sam pushes him back towards the car. Dean is annoyed at how easily he is moved; he is so small and weak. He hates it.

Sam and Cas head back towards the car. Dean could just go, just find the thing... but. He looks down at himself, at his short legs, his small arms. He remembers looking at himself in the mirror, how big his clothes were and he is at least another two years younger than that now.

He watches Sam and Cas walk down towards the car and shuffles his feet weakly to follow. He blinks blearily down at his shoes; they feel really big. Were they always that big? They _did_ seem big before, didn’t they?

“No, no Cas, I know, I’m just saying, we should probably check out the station-”

Dean presses a hand into the brick wall next to him– it’s cool against his fingers. His memory may be a bit unreliable, but Dean definitely saw a newspaper back in that diner that said it was October and, really, the orange in the trees is definitely an indication that the date is accurate but- why is it so hot all of the sudden?

“I know, but he’s my responsibility, Cas!”

The world spins sideways and Dean’s knees collide with the ground. He’s staring forward at dark shapes... he falls sideways and- there’s a rush of wind and someone’s holding him, big hands gripping tight around his small frame, a voice calling to him. His eyes had fallen shut at some point but now they open wide at the sound of the voice. He’s on the ground and his knees hurt, there’s a pain in his arms and– he’s been beaten, he’s been tossed around again and Dad’s grabbing at him, pulling at his arms and– it’s bad this time, he can’t think. He can’t breathe, why can’t he breathe?! He needs to get away– he needs–

He blinks up at a man with pure white eyes and a razor in his hand and his belly fills with cold dread. “Heaven, I’m in Heaven, and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak” the sing songy rough voice fills his ears and he wants to scream. He needs to get away. He doesn’t remember why, he just knows something terrible is coming.

“Dean?! Dean, stop fighting me!” The white-eyed man is pulling and tugging on him and he can’t breathe, he can’t scream and he wants to scream, he wants–

Dean pulls at the chains holding him on the rack as he struggles for freedom. He tries to get away, but everything is so heavy and he’s so weak. And he can’t– he can’t– Sam, where’s Sam? Sam was supposed to come, was supposed to help, Sam always helped and he can’t Dean can’t– Not again, please not again, please, please–

And then another voice is calling his name, and it’s deep but it’s not Dad’s, – it’s not the white-eyed man’s. Dean doesn’t remember the name but he knows this voice, he knows it saved him once. He knows it made the white-eyed man go away.

There’s a hand on his shoulder and he grabs for it. He’s pulled into cushiony coats and warm arms that hold him tight and he feels safe. For the first time in his life, he’s safe. He knows his angel won’t let the white-eyed man hurt him again, he knows his angel is strong and he’s crying, goddammit, Dad’s going to beat him hard for that, but he can’t seem to stop because he’s warm and safe and– and– he’s home.

_He’s home._

“It’s ok Dean, I’ve got you.” 

Dean shakes and cries and, for the moment, he doesn’t feel guilty about that because he’s safe.

***

Sam watches as Dean burrows into Cas’ coats, he watches as his big brother’s now tiny frame clutches tightly to the angel. Dean’s shaking and crying and he looks so fragile, nothing like the brother he remembers growing up with. Sam’s arms twitch from where he was holding Dean only seconds ago. But Sam wasn’t good enough, he wasn’t enough. Sam’s heart gives a painful lurch. He doesn’t know what to do with this Dean. This isn’t his Dean. This is a Dean that wants nothing to do with Sam and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.

“Is he-” Dean trembles at the sound of his voice and burrows closer to Cas.

Cas looks at Sam with something like shame in his eyes. That’s not fair, Cas doesn’t get to feel bad, this is his fault! Immediately Sam feels guilt on top of the hurt and he stares down at his hands in his lap, feeling useless.

“It’s not you Sam.” Cas’ tone is gentle and kind and Sam doesn’t want to hear it.

***

Dean blinks weakly, his eyes hazy. He’s lying in a motel bed, covers pulled up around him. He was having nightmares, the man with the white eyes. He shudders and pulls the blankets tightly around his shoulders as he sits up. At once, he notices that everything seems so much bigger.

“Dean?” The gravelly voice feels familiar somehow. He turns to the plush chair where the angel is sitting.

“Cas.” Shit, what was that? Was his voice higher? He pulls himself up into a seated position, his head pounding. “Wh-what happened?” He blinks furiously, trying to clear his vision.

He feels fingers on his shoulder and flinches hard, nearly falling off the far side of the bed. Images of a white-eyed man he can’t remember force themselves to the forefront of his mind. “Don’t touch me!”

Cas’s voice comes slow and serious from somewhere behind Dean’s hands as he rubs at his face. “My apolo–”

“Don’t apologize! Jesus.” Dean growls, curling tighter against the headboard and away from the man next to the bed. “What the hell are you even doing here? Get your rocks off watching kids sleep?!” Somewhere in the back of his head he knows he’s being unreasonable and the thought just makes it even harder to calm down.

“Dean.” And it is calm and gentle and understanding and it makes Dean even more angry. No one is this nice. No one cares. This is some horrible joke the universe is playing on him. His own father didn’t care about him as anything more than a tool to protect Sam, so why should anyone else care? Why should an angel give a shit about him? What the hell is wrong with this guy?!

He knows the answer. He hates it, it burns in his guts because he was stupid enough to let himself fall for it, but he knows. People only give love so they can hurt you when they take it away. Love is control and Dean fucking fell for it, again. 

He pulls his knees up to his chest and leans his head into them, pressing his hands into his eyes, trying desperately to stop the pounding trying to crack his skull open. “Just get the hell away from me, why are you even still here?!”

“Because I’m watching over you. I told you I would.”

Dean snorts in derision and drops his hands to claw at his knees, glaring blearily at the angel. “And why the hell should you care? You’re not my family, you don’t give a shit about me! You don’t even know how to give a shit about anyone, do you?”

Dean feels a sick sense of pride when that makes Cas twitch minutely. Finally he was getting some emotion out of the stone. “Dean, you’re not–”

“Get out.” Dean’s voice is practically a snarl. God, why does his head hurt so badly? He presses the heels of his palms into his forehead. “That’s what you want anyway, isn’t it?” 

“I-”

“You’re only around when you need something. You don’t really care about me, you just use me. So get the hell out and don’t come back!”

There is something in Cas’ eyes that makes Dean’s stomach drop... that’s not, he didn’t want... but Dean can’t seem to focus long enough to find words that make sense. He hears the sound of a door slamming from far away and the buzzing in his ears just gets louder. 

He doesn’t care, no one does.

It doesn’t feel like his own thought. 

He buries his head between his knees and shakes. The pain is getting worse. It’s like something is pulling on every part of him at once, it feels like he’s being pulled apart. 

Suddenly something clicks together in his mind. The monster, the tugging feeling, it’s close... the monster! He swings his head to look at the door. “Shit, Cas!”

Dean stumbles over his own feet in his rush to the door. “Cas!” He slams into the door and he can feel wind rushing through the cracks. It’s here, it’s just outside and he sent Cas right into it! Fighting against the air pressure, Dean shoves at the door. His arms are so small, he has no leverage. “Cas!”

He presses his whole body into the door and pushes with all his might. Finally, the door swings open and he falls forward onto the wooden planks of the porch for the second time that day. Righting himself, he stares out into what looks like a hurricane occupying the majority of the parking lot. That’s it, that’s the monster. 

Shaking himself out of his horror and doing his best to ignore the pounding in his head, he pushes forward into the swirling wind. “Cas!” He coughs as he inhales wind that doesn’t feel entirely like wind. 

“Dean! Get back inside!” A voice yells somewhere to his left. Dean pushes forward.

“Cas where are you?!”

Then, all at once, the wind dies. With all the pressure suddenly removed, Dean nearly loses his balance. He’s glad he has gotten shorter, the lower center of gravity enables him to avoid landing on his ass. He spots Cas barely a motel room length away. “Cas, what the hell-”

Cas is frozen, something dark swirling around his neck like an arm made of shadow belonging to a larger shadow barely a foot away. “Dean, get inside! NOW!”

Dean takes a step towards the angel and the shadows holding him still, when it turns to Dean. What looked like dark mist actually seems to have some sort of form, as wispy and amorphousss as smoke and it turns to Dean with dead, bleeding, crimson eyes. “Cas, what is that thing?” Dean’s voice is smaller than he means it to be.

“An Ekimmu. It’s a spirit.” The spirit looks back to Cas, seemingly intrigued. 

“Pretteeee angehhhhl...” Its voice is like listening to howling wind, its words hard to make out. “-sssso much liffffffe...” 

Dean doesn’t like the way it’s eyeing Cas. “Get the hell away from him you undead freak!” He swallows heavily and he really wishes he’d thought to arm himself.

The Ekimmu wisps towards Dean, its smoky arm still holding Cas still. “Don’t!” Cas screams struggling in its grip.

The Ekimmu glares at Cas “be sssssilent.” A smoky finger pushes into Cas’s mouth, strangling him. 

“CAS!” Dean lunges forward, only to be stopped by the bloody eyes suddenly appearing right in front of him.

“ssshhhhhh... you cannot...”

Dean blinks, a haze clouding his vision. His legs suddenly can’t hold his weight and he falls to his hands and knees. “Wha-” the world tilts off-center and his lungs tighten again, like they always do when the monster is close. He clutches at his chest wheezing pathetically. _Not again._ He looks back up at the eyes and finds someone else entirely smiling down at him. 

“Dean, Dean, Dean, what have I told you about trying to escape?” The white-eyed man taps the razor in his palm. “The angel can’t help you now, boy. Shall we get back to it, then?”

Dean tries to back away, but instead, he falls back on his butt. “No. Not you.”

“Oh yes, me.” His smile drips with blood.

“Dean! It’s not real!” That voice... He knows–

Dean shakes his head, and sees Cas, a silver blade in his hand, grappling with black smoke. “You need to get back inside!”

He tries to stand, but someone grabs his arm and pushes him down into the asphalt of the parking lot. Yellow eyes glimmer at him. “You’re not going anywhere boy. We have you now, we’re going to kill you and take your angel.” 

He can’t breathe, he can’t breathe! Something is pressing into his lungs. His vision blurs. He can hear someone calling his name, someone he doesn’t remember. He still can’t breathe!

And then it’s gone. Dean sucks in blessed oxygen, his can see again and his head doesn’t hurt. His eyes go wide as a silver blade clatters next to him,. He stares at it. Cas had thrown it into the illusion, shattering it. But, if Cas had thrown his blade– Dean pushes himself to his feet. “Cas?”

Nothing. 

Nothing is there. 

Dean turns slowly on the spot. The parking lot is completely empty. 

“Cas!”

Nothing at all.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam is driving into the parking lot of the motel when he gets a bad feeling. He sees a kid sitting on the steps leading to their room. “Shit.”

The Impala’s wheels screech as he pulls her into the parking spot faster than was probably wise. Sam pushes the door open and takes the two steps to the stairs in one quick motion. “Dean?”

The child looks up and Sam swallows heavily, he must be nine? Ten? “Sam?” There are tears streaking down his cheeks and something inside Sam breaks. This isn’t Dean, this isn’t his brother. This is a child, a child that shouldn’t have to be dealing with all of this. That shouldn’t have to hunt, shouldn’t have to fight. Shouldn’t have had to raise another child... 

Sam collapses next to Dean and pulls him into his arms in a tight hug. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for but he can’t seem to stop.

“Sam.” Dean sniffles against his chest. “He’s gone, it took him.”

Dean squeezes himself tightly to Sam’s chest and he holds him tight. Sam lifts his head to survey the damage. The parking lot looks mostly untouched, a few things blown around and the door to their room is off one of it’s hinges near the bottom. Sam pulls Dean back a little so he can see into his eyes. “Dean?”

Dean takes a stuttering breath and wipes at his eyes with a tiny hand. He stares at the ground and says “It took Cas.”

Sam nods, wiping tears from Dean’s cheek without thinking. “What happened?”

Dean tells Sam about the wind monster that was some sort of spirit, an Ekimmu, or something. Sam intends to get up and grab the laptop, but Dean doesn’t appear ready to leave the comfort of his arms. So Sam pulls Dean in again. “It’s gonna be ok, Dean.” Dean makes a small snuffling sound against his chest and Sam knows he’s crying again. 

“You don’t-” Dean huffs in a shaky breath, unable to get himself under control “–I said– I said awful things to him, Sam.”

Sam rubs comforting circles into Dean’s back. “It’s gonna be ok, Dean. He knows you, he knows whatever you said, it doesn’t matter. Trust me, Dean. I’m sure you’ve said worse and he always comes back, ok?” Sam smiles down at his tiny little brother. “And we’re gonna get him back. He’s an angel, he’ll be ok.”

Dean sniffles into Sam’s shirt and, in a voice that is much too young, he asks “Are you sure?”

Sam looks down into his little brother’s eyes. “Yeah, bud, he’s gonna be fine.” 

Dean nods. “Ok.”

“We’re gonna need to find him fast though. Can you still track the spirit?”

Dean nods again. “You said it was too dangerous.”

“Well we don’t have much choice now, do we?” Sam puts Dean down on the bottom step. “I’m gonna go get the supplies and we’ll figure out a plan on the way over.”

Dean squints up at Sam. “You’re actually gonna let me help?” 

“Only if you promise to be less reckless than usual.” Sam grins back at the small child that had been his older brother only a day ago. 

Sam definitely doesn’t like the grin on Dean’s face when he replies “Let’s kick it in the ass, then.”

***

Dean wobbles slightly as Sam adjusts his weight. “You ok up there?” Sam whispers up at him.

Dean catches Sam’s hair in his tiny fists. “Fine. I’m fine. Just move a bit closer to the wall.” Hearing his own child-like voice still throws him off a little. Sam’s hands come up to the sides of his legs, steadying him on Sam’s shoulders. Dean presses himself against the wall so that he has clear access to the window.

His feet are swimming in the adult boots, he’s tied his belt in a knot and rolled up the jeans to the point where he really should have just searched for shorts, and his t-shirt is down to his knees now. Honestly, he feels completely ridiculous, but there was no time to get something that fit, Cas is in danger. 

“Do you see anything?” Sam’s voice sounds strained. Not surprising, given their awkward position against the window of a dock-side warehouse in the middle of the day.

Dean presses his face against the glass, he can’t see Cas from here but– he pushes his palm into the window and it swings open. Bingo! His size is a bit of a hindrance when it comes to weapons, as he can’t use a gun without risking breaking his wrists. He does, however, have the benefit of being able to fit through small windows. 

“Dean! What are you doing?” Sam asks in a harsh whisper as Dean slips through the window and off of Sam’s shoulders.

Dean grips the window sill in his hands, maneuvering to sit on it and look back down at Sam. “I’ll go in this way, you find another way around.” Dean says as he hops down onto the conveniently placed scaffolding of the second level of the warehouse. 

“You said you weren’t gonna be reckless.” Sam’s voice comes out almost whining rather than stern.

Dean leans back out the window, grinning down at Sam. “I’ll be careful, I remember the plan.”

“I’m really starting to regret the plan right now.” Sam graces him with a bitchface before slipping back around the other corner of the building. Dean is starting to suspect those are a regular occurrence.

Dean ducks down into a crouch and makes his way along the old wooden scaffolding towards the center of the warehouse. This place must have been abandoned for years, what the hell kind of spirit lives in a warehouse? Graveyards, spooky old buildings, but a boring old warehouse on the docks?

It’s not long before he finds himself slipping through into the main part of the building, and that’s where he finds Cas.

He’s hanging from a set of chains wrapped around his wrists and attached to the underside of the scaffolding on the other side of where Dean’s crouched. Cas looks like he’s in pain. He’s compleyely limp, maybe unconscious, and making small noises of discomfort. Dean can only imagine how much pain he must be in to make that much noise. Even when he was being strangled before Cas had been soundless.

Dean scans the area, walking to the edge of the scaffolding, placing his hands gently on the railing. He just needs to make his way around to the other side, then he can maybe knock the chains down. But Cas is an angel, the chains shouldn’t have any effect, should they? 

Dean leans into the railing, squinting down at Cas. Why isn’t he moving? He should be able to get free. Cas is staring blankly ahead and making those little noises. Leaning a little closer, Dean can see something like mist flowing out of Cas. 

Shit. The Ekimmu is sucking out his life force, but why is it taking so long? A sudden creak short-circuits Dean’s brain and the railing he’s leaning most of his weight on snaps. “Crap!” He yelps as he loses his footing. He struggles to right himself and grab the wooden scaffolding, but his feet slip off completely and he’s tumbling right after the railing. 

From this height, as small and flimsy as he is right now, he’s going to shatter to pieces. He shrieks in an exceptionally unmanly way, but fuck manliness right now!

“DEAN!” 

He lets out a shaky breath and stares down at the floor right in front of his face as the world slowly flips right side up and he’s dropped unceremoniously on his butt. He’s still shaking as he blinks over at Cas, who’s staring at him with something like relief on his face. “C-Cas? Did you?”

Cas shakes his head, but he’s focused on something behind Dean. Dean slowly turns around and comes face to face with the dripping red eyes and creepy shadow body of the Ekimmu. Dean reaches for his iron rod but it’s not there, he dropped it in the fall. He sees it a few feet away near where the railing fell.

“Ssso nice of you to drop in.”

Dean rolls his eyes at the spirit. “Seriously?” He looks back at Cas, “Is that really how this is going to go?” 

Cas is pulling at his restraints, “Dean, not the time!”

“Right.” He turns back to the Ekimmu, but it’s not ghostly anymore. A foot hits him in the chest and he rolls back a few feet from the force of it. He’s coughing and trying to breathe when a hand wraps around his neck and lifts him up. 

“Dean!” He can hear Cas struggling at his restraints. The monster must have done a number on him if the rusty metal is keeping him in place. 

Dean’s head lolls back as he struggles to breathe. Now would be a really good time for Sam to show up.

His vision is going fuzzy and he can barely make out the familiar face hovering over him. With the last little bit of air he has, Dean spits in the ghostly face of his father.

The hand releases him and he gulps down air as the ghost stumbles back, startled. “Weren’t expecting that were you, you ugly son of a bitch!” Dean stands and shuffles backward towards Cas, holding his bruised ribs. “I hope you got a plan Cas, because I dropped mine back behind ugly there.”

“S-salt... d-don’t burn...” Cas’s voice sounds way too weak.

Dean looks over his shoulder at the weakened angel. “Cas?” Cas has gone completely limp again, that weird, ghostly light still seeping from him. Dean follows the mist with his eyes back to a small pile of bones in the center of the warehouse. Those must be it’s remains... but why shouldn’t they burn it? He looks down at his small hands. Oh. They must need it to cure him or something.

A fist hits him in the side of the face and he goes reeling to the floor on his side. 

“Dean, Dean, Dean.” a white, ghostly finger tilts his chin up and he’s staring into his father’s amused face. “You shouldn’t have come for the angel, he’s not your family. I am. Why aren’t you protecting Sammy, Dean?”

Dean tries desperately not to give into the fear that the tone pulls out of him. “You’re not him.”

“Are you disrespecting your father, boy?” A hand fists in his shirt and lifts him up in the air. “You have one job, Dean, one thing that kept me from throwing you away years ago. Do you know what that is?” 

“N-no. Dad, let go! I-I can’t-”

“You answer the question soldier!”

Dean’s body instinctively tenses from the command and he tries to steady his voice as his feet dangle limply in the air. “I don’t, sir.”

“You protect Sam.” His father leans in and says menacingly. “But Sam’s bigger than you now. We don’t need you anymore.”

His breath catches, something’s happening, Dad’s taking something, pulling on his lungs and god, Dean CAN’T BREATHE!

“DEAN!” 

Dean blinks furiously, trying to stay conscious as he turns to see Sam in the door. He tries to call out but there’s no air, there’s no AIR!

Sam looks shocked but he crosses the room in a few long, quick strides and shoves an iron bar through John Winchester’s head. 

Dean falls weakly from the spirit’s grip and Sam catches him. “Jesus, Dean, are you ok?”

Dean sucks in as much air as he can and repeats Cas’ message to Sam. “Remains, surround with salt,” he points Sam in the right direction and it’s all he can manage as he tries desperately to fill his lungs. Sam sets him gently on the ground as he picks the iron rod back up and moves away towards the remains. 

Dean sucks in another lungful of air but it doesn’t help. The thing is still stealing his breath. “Faster Sam,” he pants out as the world turns an alarming shade of puce. 

“Dad?” Sam’s voice is shaky and unsure. Dean tries to look at his brother but his eyes won’t focus. The Ekimmu has reappeared and it’s approaching Sam slowly. 

“Sam, it’s not–” it comes out barely a whisper, the air in his lungs is gone and he can see a tendril of grey-purple smoke coming from him, like it was Cas. Sam is staring at the monster, but he’s not doing anything. Dean tries to call out, but the thing is speaking in John Winchester’s voice and it’s all Sam is paying attention to.

“You didn’t know, did you?” It takes a step towards Sam. Dean claws at his throat. “How afraid he was, constantly.” Dean’s vision is going foggy. “Afraid of the monsters, afraid of letting you down, afraid of me.” He can’t see, he can’t breathe, he’s going to die. The monster takes another step towards Sam, lifting a hazy arm. “Do you know what I did to him, Sam?” It smiles viciously. “All those bruises, and you really thought it was just from hunts?” 

Dean falls to the side, unable to keep himself up any longer. From across the room his eyes find Cas’. Dean reaches out for him as his world fades. 

As his eyes close he hears the sound of chains rattling and smashing. 

Dean convulses, clutching at his chest, struggling to pull air into his burning lungs. He can’t think. He can’t breathe and that’s all there is. He feels like he’s drowning. He’s dying, he knows he’s dying and he can’t remember anything but the voice, that voice.

“Sam’s grown up, we don’t need you anymore.”

Don’t need you anymore.

Don’t need you.

They never needed him.

Dean’s small body goes limp on the warehouse floor.

He can’t stay awake. What’s the point, anyway? Sam’s grown up, he doesn’t need Dean to protect him anymore. His own father never cared if he lived or died, he just needed a protector for Sammy. 

All he sees is darkness. 

His mind floats somewhere between sleep and wakefulness for a few moments before he drops down... down...

Someone is shaking him. But he’s so peaceful, floating down. 

A voice calls his name. He knows that voice.

“Dean! Dean wake up! You have to wake up!”

No, no... So tired, want to sleep.

“I’m not strong enough to heal you, please–”

Too tired... too weak... just want to sleep.

“Please... I need you.”

...Cas?

“Don’t leave me.”

Cas!

His eyes open and he gasps. Suddenly, violently, alive. He jerks up and his hands press against his aching ribs. Dean groans groggily his entire body hurts.

“Dean?!” He’s suddenly engulfed in a gigantic hug. Which puts even more pressure on his bruised ribs. 

“Ow, hey! What part of “ow” is confusing, Sam?!” 

Sam puts him down gently, laughing a little. “Jesus, Dean, you should hear yourself, your voice is so high pitched.” He’s grinning that stupid little brother grin that reminds Dean so much of the little Sam he remembers.

He looks around the building. “What happened to the–” Just then, he spots Cas over by the Ekimmu’s remains. Hadn’t he been right next to him when he woke up? How did he get over there so fast?

Cas stares down at the remains thoughtfully. “It’s dormant now, we’ll need to place it in iron so that we can transport it back to the bunker.” He turns to Sam. “Do you have something in the Impala?”

Sam nods. “Yeah, but... why do we need to take it to the Bunker?”

Dean’s tired, too tired to complain that they’ve started ignoring him again, but it’s really frustrating that Cas isn’t even looking at him. Had he just imagined Cas saying... _that_?

“There is a ritual we must perform, it will release the life-force the Ekimmu stole.” Cas walks back towards the main door of the warehouse. “Once it is complete, Dean should regain his proper age and memories.”

With that Cas disappears out the door. Dean stares after him, his heart lurching uncomfortably in his chest with the idea of Cas not being here. Cas had been right by his side this whole time, he doesn’t understand why Cas would be avoiding him all of a sudden. 

Dean tries to stand but just ends up wobbling on his knees. He looks down at himself– he’s so small. His clothes are barely managing to stay on him, he’s practically drowning in fabric.

“Ok.” Sam swoops down and picks him up, wrapping his jacket firmly around Dean’s tiny body. “I’m taking you back to the car.” 

Sam walks with Dean in his arms out towards the car and Dean feels a wave of vertigo pass over him. “How young am I?”

Cas rounds the corner, a large iron box in hand. “You appear to be between 3 and 5 years of age.”

Dean makes a noise like “Hmm.” and lies against Sam’s chest, feeling the dizziness pass and exhaustion start to take hold. 

He feels Sam’s other hand, the one not holding him to his chest, pet his hair gently. Dean makes a small grumbly noise but otherwise doesn’t respond, too tired to care that he was being treated like a kid and, though he’ll never admit it, really liking the attention. 

He hears Sam call to Cas, in a loud whisper. “You got that, right?”

And then, the world fades away.

***

The drive back to the Bunker isn’t overly long, but poor Dean is exhausted. Sam can see them in the rearview mirror. Cas is staring out the window, hand idly brushing Dean’s fluffy, baby blonde hair, as Dean leans, curled into Castiel’s side, fast asleep.

Sam can’t help but realize how small Dean is. He’s puny, probably somewhere around four, maybe six at the most. He was this small when their mother died. When Dean carried him out of the burning house. When Dad uprooted their lives and left them alone for weeks at a time to hunt the thing that killed her. 

He looks back in the mirror and his eyes meet Cas’s across the Impala. There’s an understanding there that he wasn’t expecting. The angel didn’t know them back then, and yet he was certainly a part of the family now. A very welcome part. Dean needed him and Sam did too. He wasn’t sure how they’d have survived this without him. It was Cas that had known what the creature was and how to help Dean, providing that the cure worked. But more than that, it was Cas who had somehow managed to get past Dean’s barriers, again. 

How did Cas keep doing that? Keep winning over his very difficult to please big brother? 

He’d heard what Cas said back in that warehouse. Maybe that was it, maybe Dean had finally found someone that loved as fiercely as he did. Sam smiles softly, focusing on the road and the trip back to the Bunker. 

He’d heard what the Ekimmu said, too. The monster that turned into their father in order to scare Dean. 

Sam takes a deep, cleansing breath. Dad didn’t raise him, Dean did. Dean had always seemed so big, so grown up to him but... here he was. He’d seen Dean grow up in reverse. This is the reality. This is the big brother that raised and protected him. And he was small, weak and innocent.

Dean makes a small sleepy snore and buries his face into Cas’s shirt. 

Dean had hidden all of it. All of the hurt and pain, everything Dad had done, everything growing up like that had put on him and Dean had never said a word. Dean had given up everything for Sam again and again. Just like always. And somehow it all started to make a lot more sense.

***

Dean stares at his hands. He flexes them into tiny fists, amazed that he was ever this small. He’s sitting crosslegged on a bed in a room that’s unfamiliar to him. The walls are covered in weapons. Some of them are interesting, but he’s not really interested in thinking about hunting right now. The Ekimmu was more than enough for at least a few weeks.

There’s still that weird tension in his lungs. There’s still a connection between him and the spirit. He really hopes it’ll be over soon.

“Dean?”

Dean’s head jerks up at the sudden voice. Cas stands hesitant in the doorway. Dean smiles at him, big and wide. His heart is swelling at the sight of the angel, just like it always seems to. “Cas. Hey!”

 

Cas shuffles a little awkwardly. “May I come in?”

Now it’s Dean’s turn to tilt his head in confusion. “You don’t need permission, man, it’s not my room.”

“Well actually-” Cas looks at the walls with an unreadable expression, then comes in anyway. “How are you feeling?” He changes track easily, smiling down at Dean. Cas has to be at least 3 feet taller than him, and even from he’s sitting on the bed he feels short.

Dean shrugs. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Cas gives him a confused look. 

Dean knows he should be more guarded with his feelings than this but there’s something... freeing about being a child. He feels like he can trust Cas. He thinks he heard what Cas said in the warehouse. He wants to believe it, he wants to believe that Cas cares. “You weren’t here when I woke up. I was worried you’d left.”

Cas shifts a little on his feet. “Oh. I’m not going anywhere until the ritual is done, Sam will need my assistance.”

Dean can feel his heart sink. Why can’t he stop his emotions? “Until after the ritual? Are you planning on leaving then?” It hurts, why does it hurt?

Cas continues to fidget and it’s becoming distracting. “If I’m not needed. You don’t remember now, but I am not always here.”

Is this how it always is? Beating around the bush, not saying it directly? Fuck that. “I’d like you to be.” He feels strangely daring, saying it. But it’s true and Cas should know that. Dean shouldn’t have to tell him.

Cas smiles sadly and sits down next to Dean. Without prompting or even invitation, Dean curls under Cas’ arm. Cas looks confused for a moment but then his arm drops on the other side of Dean and makes him feel warm and safe. Yes, he definitely wants Cas to stay. “There is much going on Dean. So much you don’t remember. When you are grown up again you’ll understand.”

Dean sighs, it’s so frustrating. Why can’t Cas just take a hint? He rubs his face into Cas’ coat. “Then I don’t want to be grown up again.” He mumbles. “Stay.”

“Dean.” It’s amazing how Cas can make the one syllable sound so disappointed.

Dean sniffles. Shit, is he crying? He really is a child. “What if I ask you to stay when I’m big?”

Cas says nothing for a long time and Dean clenches his little fists into Cas’ coat. Cas squeezes him tight with the arm already wrapped around him. “You won’t though.” It sounds almost sad and that’s not fair. It’s not fair because he knows he wants Cas to stay and if he’s still himself when he’s big, then he will definitely still want that. 

“I will.” He says without doubt.

It’s at that moment that Sam pushes the door open wide. “Hey, Cas, everything’s all set up.” Dean just clutches Cas tighter. “Do you guys need a minute?”

“We’re fine.” Cas grumbles from above. They are so not fine, Dean thinks, refusing to let go as Cas tries to extricate himself. “Perhaps just a few minutes.”

“I’ll meet you in the library.” Sam says and Dean can hear him leave. He’s sure he can also hear a laugh as Sam’s footsteps get quieter.

“Dean. I need to go help your brother.” Cas says, gently trying to peel Dean’s tiny fists out of his coat.

“Promise.” Dean sobs.

“Dean?” Cas’s hands still.

Between small sobs Dean manages to get out, “Promise you’ll be here when I’m big again.” 

“Dean.” It sounds like it pains Cas to speak. “Don’t.”

But he won’t be deterred. “Promise!”

Cas sighs. Dean feels his hands fall away. “I promise, Dean. I won’t leave until I speak to you when you’re big again. Ok?”

“O-ok.” Dean lets go of Cas’s coat.

Cas stands and turns towards Dean, crouching in front of him. He reaches up to wipe the tears from Dean’s cheeks. “Get some sleep, Dean. When you wake everything will make sense again.”

Dean nods and watches Cas stand and leave the room, closing the door behind him. Dean feels like there’s lead in his heart as he curls up and crawls into the overlarge bed. He will ask Cas to stay. He closes his eyes. “I will ask Cas to stay,” like saying it aloud will make it true.

***

The first thing he notices is the light, it’s so goddamned bright in his room. How the hell did he fall asleep like this? He’s wedged up into the top corner of his bed, his head at an odd angle to compensate for being squashed into the headboard. 

The second thing he notices is that Cas isn’t there. 

He blinks, why would Cas be here? Cas is never here. That’s such a weird thought to have. His heart gives a small tug in his chest. That’s just the way it is. Cas has more important things to do than loom over Dean while he sleeps. Or even stick around for longer than the time it takes to finish whatever hunt he popped by to deal with. 

Dean kicks off the blanket and rolls out of bed, groaning as his eyes adjust to the obnoxious amount of light. He fully intends to switch it off and go back to sleep when he catches sight of himself in the mirror over the sink.

His shirt is disheveled and a mess, but his face is... he squints and walks closer to the mirror to get a better look at his face.

The third thing he notices is that he’s himself again and he wonders how he ever forgot about the curse.

The fourth thing he notices is that he’s not wearing any pants.

***

Five minutes later, after changing into something that thankfully fits properly, he’s rushing down the halls of the bunker. 

He said he’d stay.

So where the fuck is he?

He’s turning a corner towards the library when a little traitorous voice in his head reminds him that Cas never stays, that he was probably just saying that because Dean is a fucking annoying, emotional child and it was the only thing he could say that would calm him down. 

He can’t have left. He wouldn’t. He promised. Dean’s not sure if it’s some leftover remnant of being young enough to just inherently trust someone older or if he’s just tired of shit not working out, but he’s sure Cas is still here, he’s sure he’ll find him. He promised and maybe he’s just around the next corner–

“Dean?”

As he rounds the corner into the library he sees Sam. He can’t help the smile that cuts through his worry. “Heya, Sammy.”

Before he can say or do anything else, he has his arms full of his giant little brother and honestly, it’s amazing that he’s no longer AS gigantic as he seemed. 

“You’re back,” comes the muffled voice of his brother. “I wasn’t sure it worked. I was looking for something–” Sam releases him and pulls him back so they can look at each other eye to eye. “Goddamn, it’s so good to see you back to normal. You’re– you are back to normal, right?”

Dean cants his head to the side, mimicking consideration. “I dunno, were you always this tall?”

Sam gives him a teasing shove and glares. “Were you always that short?”

“Touché.” Dean glances around the room looking for signs of Cas. He opens his mouth to ask but is cut off by Sam’s sudden question.

“Were you ever going to tell me about Dad?”

Dean flinches, caught off guard. “What? What about Dad?”

“That thing, the Ekimmu. It turned into Dad. I saw what it did to you. What it said. It taunted me, Dean!” Sam’s getting all worked up and damn, he’s not supposed to worry about any of this. This is not his problem.

“It was just messing with us, Sam.” Dean says in a tone that unequivocally means ‘drop it’.

Sam glares, determined now and dammit this is not his problem! “No, it wasn’t. Dean. I did some research while you were sleeping. They turn into the thing you fear the most. Dean.” Sam’s face turns to something like worry. “Did he hit you?”

Dean rubs at his forehead and in a warning tone replies, “Sam. Drop it.”

“Oh my god.” Sam turns away pacing the library. “Oh my god.”

Don’t do this, not now. “Sam-”

Sam stops and rounds on him. “He did! He hit you and you never said– why didn’t you tell me?! All those bruises, none of that was from hunts, that was him! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

Dean knows when Sam can’t be stopped; like a dog with a bone, he’s not going to drop it. Dean shrugs his arms in defeat. “Because you’d just get angry with him, Sam!”

“Someone has to be!” Sam replies, clearly angry.

Dean does not want to have this talk, ever. “I didn’t want you starting more fights with him, Sam!”

Dean can see the dawning realization on Sam’s face. “Did he– when we’d fight and you’d push him away–”

No no nonono. Sam does not need to think about this too much. “Sam, stop it.” There’s enough guilt on both of them, Sam does not need to add this on to it.

“You weren’t protecting him...”

“Sam please,” he practically begs. 

“You didn’t tell me because then he’d hit you more, or me. You were scared–”

No. No they were not going there. “ENOUGH!” Dean screams unable to hold back. Sam stops in his tracks. Dean stands there feeling sick; he’d managed to avoid this for years and now. He closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yes, ok? I was protecting us and I didn’t tell you later because I didn’t want you to be angry with him because he’s dead and we don’t need to expend any more energy on a ghost, ok? So can we just drop it now?”

“Dean, he hurt you.” Sam’s voice sounds so goddamned small. Like he’s a little kid again being told for the first time about all the monsters in the world. He just never knew one of them was Dad.

Dean takes in a stuttering breath, dropping his hand from his face. “It was a long time ago.”

Suddenly he’s got an armful of bear-hugging brother, again. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t help you. I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

God fucking– Sam does not need this guilt, it’s supposed to be over. “It’s not your fault, Sam.” And now he’s getting emotional and that’s not fair. He really hopes Sam can’t hear it in his voice.

“I know, but I’m here for you now, ok?” Jesus Christ, he just wants to be anywhere but here right now.

He tries to laugh but it doesn’t come out right. Something’s wrong with him, why is he shaking? “I’m fine.”

“I know.” Sam holds him tighter and Dean lets him. He lets himself ease into the hug. Lets Sam take control of the situation, if only a little. And Sam just holds him, he holds him for a long time until the shaking stops and Dean feels– he feels a whole lot better than he has in a long, long time. 

They break apart and Dean wipes what is clearly the dampness of sweat and not tears from his cheek. “We good?”

Sam shrugs a little. “I want you to talk to me about this. When you’re ready.”

Dean appreciates the gesture but there’s no way he’s going to talk about... that. Not any time soon.

“Whenever that is, ok? No more secrets, right?” Sam tries again.

Dean nods. “Yeah, ok.” Struggling to get off the topic, he remembers why he came in. “Where’s Cas? Did he–” leave. The word won’t leave his mouth, Cas can’t– he promised. And god that sounds so childish to think.

Sam looks at Dean with something like pity and Dean just shrinks back. “Yeah, he um... he said he’d stick around, right?”

Dean’s not at all missing the non-answer there. “So you haven’t seen him?”

Sam shrugs. “I’ve been, y’know.” He gestures towards a chair with a rumpled copy of _The Wizard of Oz_ strewn haphazardly on it. 

Dean looks at him with disbelief which Sam mistakes for confusion, prompting him to add: “reading.”

“Yes Sam, I know what reading is.” Dean sighs. “You’re sure he didn’t just, y’know,” he makes a gesture with his hand in an attempt to convey flying away. 

Sam seems to understand it well enough and shakes his head. “Nah, he said he’d stick around, right? He’ll be here.”

“Right.” Dean says, staring at his feet. He can’t help the defeat in his voice and it pisses him off. 

A hand thumps on his shoulder and Dean glares up at Sam. “Go get ‘im tiger.”

Dean flushes. “I– y– What?!”

“You’re a good liar, Dean.” Sam squeezes his shoulder and fuck– what the hell Sam? “Hell, a great liar. But not when it comes to how you feel about people.” What’s with the brotherly bonding all of a sudden? The feelings talks? “So go tell Cas so he stops running off all the time.”

Go tell Cas? Go tell– “What the fuck, Sam? What do you think I’m going to go–”

“Dean.”

Judgey much? “No, Sam. I don’t know what you think is going on here but I’m not–”

“In love with Cas?” Sam gives him a hell of a bitchface and Dean can feel the flush climbing up his cheeks and onto his ears, fuck. “Dean. I know, I’ve known for a long time. I just figured the two of you would get your shit together by now and– jesus, Dean. You really suck at this, you know?”

Dean just stares at Sam wordlessly and if an odd sort of squeak comes out of his throat then, well, it’s not his fucking fault, ok?!

“He loves you too. This whole hiding your emotions thing isn’t good for either of you.” 

Dean just stands there, frozen. What the fuck, seriously, what the fuck?! “Sam, he really doesn’t–”

Sam gives him such a stern bitchface that Dean freezes mid-sentence. “He doesn’t!” Oh fuck yeah, lets go on the defensive, Dean. That’s such a fucking good idea, fuck.

“He really, really does, Dean. God, the way he moons over you. Just go ask him to stay already.” Sam says. Dean takes a step back towards the door. “It has been so fucking awkward watching you two dance around each other these past couple days.” Sam shakes his head and grabs the book from the chair as he flops down onto it.

Dean flinches and says the only thing that comes to mind. “Shut your damn mouth.” He turns on his heel and intends to make a hasty exit but as he gets to the archway between the library and the hall he swears he hears whispered hissing “Deesssstieeeel”

***

As he rounds the corner towards the hallway off the kitchen, he spots Cas walking towards him down the hall. 

“CAS!” Dean calls out as he rushes towards him.

Cas turns. “Dean? I’m sorry about what I said before, I shouldn’t have–”

He’s cut off as Dean grabs him. “Stay.” He says and smashed their lips together. 

Dean feels a hand pressing on his chest, pushing him back. “Cas?” He meets Cas’s frightened eyes and immediately tries to back a step away but the hand has turned into two and they’re clutching at his shirt, holding him in place. “Cas, I’m sorry I didn’t think–” 

He’s rambling excuses when he hears Cas’s voice, small and almost trembling. “No... don’t–” 

Dean tries to step back again but Cas won’t let go. “It’s ok, I didn’t expect you to feel the same. I shouldn’t have done that.” His heart is sinking with the realization and fuck, why the hell would Sam say that? Why the fuck would he make Dean think that he could– fuck! 

“Please don’t.” Cas’s voice is small and pained and fuck, he put that look on Cas’s face. That hurt, scared look and he needs to get away from Cas before he does something stupid.

“Cas, you’ve got my shirt.” 

Cas seems to realize what he’s doing and it shakes him out of his freakout. He looks up into Dean’s eyes. “It was fine, it was– we can try it again, I messed it up but I’ll do better this time.” 

Suddenly it clicks in Dean’s head. “You don’t want to do this.”

Cas’ eyes widen, panicked. “I do! I do. I want this. I want you.”

“But you don’t want–” Dean makes a vague gesture towards himself. “–this.”

Cas looks down and away. “I can. I can try, I want to try, Dean.” He closes his eyes like he’s psyching himself up and Dean’s heart breaks. This isn’t at all how this was supposed to go.

“No, you don’t.” Dean says in a firm voice. He moves his head around trying to catch Cas’s eyes. “Cas–” Cas seems to be making an extra effort to avoid Dean’s gaze, which is strange because he’s still clinging to his shirt like an octopus. “Cas. Would you just look at me?”

Cas does as he’s told but his eyes are too bright, too damp. “I can do this.” And his voice is so goddamned determined that Dean can feel his heart lurch in response. “I can do this, just give me a chance.”

“No. Cas–” Cas looks back down at his feet, his hands loosening on Dean’s shirt and Dean grabs them and holds them tight. “Cas, listen to me.” Cas makes no movement, so Dean is fairly sure he’s got his attention. “I don’t ever want you to do that, ok? I don’t want you to do something you don’t like just because you want to be with someone, you hear me?”

Cas nods dully. Dean can tell he’s upset and it throws him off balance. Cas doesn’t do emotional. Seeing Cas like this is... it’s strange and he hates that he’s fucked this whole thing up so badly. He swallows hard. Psyching himself up for this conversation, he’s not used to this and he really wishes he had some liquid courage to help. Later. 

“Cas. I’m not gonna lie to you, I-I would be totally into it if you wanted to have some hardcore sex, but that’s not you and that’s fine.” He stresses the word fine, because it is. Cas needs to know that, he needs to understand. Dean reaches out gently and eases Cas’s head up so he can tell Cas this to his face. His eyes are bright and his cheeks are flushed with emotion he’s trying to hold in and Dean feels even worse. “I love you, Cas.” 

Cas’ eyes go wide and he looks like he’s about to talk but Dean needs to get it out now, he’s not sure if he can convince himself to say this more than once and he’s already made it this far. “I want to be with you and if that means I need to deal with this–” he makes a vague gesture to his junk– “on my own, so be it. It’s not like I don’t have experience with that.” He grins a little at Cas who just looks confused now and it’s so fucking adorable. “It doesn’t change my offer. I want you to stay with me and I want you to do it because it’s what you want. I want you to just be you, Cas.”

“You still want to be in a relationship with me?” Cas asks, looking completely nonplussed. 

Dean lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “God, yes.”

“And you don’t mind if I don’t ever want to have sex.” Cas asked, tentatively. “Or kiss you.”

“I want you. I want everything you’re willing to give me but I want you. I don’t want you to force yourself to be someone else because you think it’s what’ll make me happy.” Cas stares at him and Dean keeps their eyes locked, willing Cas to understand exactly how insignificant this one tiny detail was in the grand scheme of things. 

Dean squeezes Cas’s hands in his own. “I’ve had a lot of experience with meaningless sex and what I’ve learned? Yeah, it’s fun. Of course I enjoy a good orgasm as much as the next sex-loving maniac, but I’m over it. I’ve been there and done that so many times and it just doesn’t matter to me like it used to. What I’ve wanted for years now, wasn’t some meaningless hookup, it was you.” He places a hand gently on Cas’ cheek and brushes a small single tear away that had escaped while Cas was clearly trying to hold it back. “I thought–” he swallows at the lump in his throat. “I thought that wasn’t in the cards and now it is. I’m not throwing you away because you won’t yank my chain, Cas. You’re too important to me for that to matter.”

“Dean...” Cas sniffles. And then, suddenly, Dean is being pulled into a stronger than human hug and he is reminded that the weird, dorky, little guy he’d brought to tears was a fucking terrifying, millennia old angel that he’d seen torture and kill more supernatural beings than he could count over the years. Cas’s voice trembles when he says: “I love you.”

How the hell could someone like Cas even look at him as more than an amoeba, let alone love him? Be afraid Dean would reject _him_? How was that even possible? Dean feels dizzy with the magnitude of it. Cas is clutching him tightly and all he can squeak out is, “Really?”

Cas releases him and he sways a bit as his oxygen returns. Cas gives him that incredulous, bird-like stare, complete with head tilt, before huffing out a laugh. “Yes of course, I thought that was obvious.”

“Yeah...” Dean rubs at the back of his head. “Sam figured that one out...”

Cas smiles at him. “I’m glad at least one of you can be counted on for deductive skills.”

“I– Hey!” But Cas is already making his way back down the hall. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere in particular. Since I’ll be living here from now on, shouldn’t you be giving me the tour?”

Dean rushes a few steps down the hall to catch up to Cas. “I suppose... you gonna want your own bedroom?”

“I don’t sleep, Dean.” Cas replies with a teasing grin. “But I thought I could just abscond with part of your bed should I choose to lie down for the evening.”

Dean pauses walking as Cas just keeps heading down the hall. “Does this mean you’re into cuddling?”

Cas shrugs, turning them down the corridor and heading in the direction of Dean’s room. “Only one way to find out. Sex is obviously off the table, but we can test my limits for nonsexual physical contact. I find hugs to be very enjoyable, so perhaps “cuddling” would be as well.” The air quotes for cuddling are too much and Dean grins and runs ahead of him down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tiny."
> 
> \---
> 
> Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it <3
> 
> Thank you again to my wonderful Beta, who put up with my terrible lack of skill with the English language. Seriously... if this was an English assignment I'd have failed miserably. XD 
> 
> And a big thanks to the mods of the Asexual Supernatural Mini Bang for infusing the Supernatural Fandom with more Ace fics!  
> <3 <3 <3 THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER <3 <3 <3  
> *runs off to go read everyone else's fics now*


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